LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 


LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 


BY 


MABEL  SHAKMAN  CRAWFORD. 


FROM  THE   LONDON  EDITION. 


NEW-YORK: 

SHELDON  AND  COMPANY,  115  NASSAU  STREET. 
1859. 


TO 


WILLIAM   SHARMAN   CRAWFORD 
is  $olmnt 


is 

AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED 
BY  ins 

DAUGHTER.      * 


INTRODUCTION. 


AT  the  present  moment,  when  Italy  is  the  central 
point  of  interest  to  the  whole  of  Europe,  no  apology, 
it  is  hoped,  will  be  necessary  for  the  contribution  of 
any  information  tending  to  throw  a  light  upon  the 
character,  condition  and  ideas  of  the  people  of  that 
land.  The  classic  and  historical  associations  of 
Italy,  its  architectural  remains,  and  the  treasures 
of  ancient  and  modern  art  contained  in  its  churches, 
museums  and  picture  galleries,  have  been  the  theme 
of  so  many  eloquent  writers,  that  it  would  be  su 
perfluous,  if  not  presumptuous,  for  any  one  not 
highly  qualified  by  learning  and  research,  to  treat 
of  such  subjects.  Avoiding,  therefore,  topics  to 
which,  under  any  circumstances,  no  interest  arising 
from  novelty  can  now  possibly  attach,  I  venture  to 
hope  that  these  impressions  of  the  aspects  of  "  Life 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION. 

in  Tuscany,"  derived  from  a  ten  months'  sojourn 
in  that  country,  will  prove  neither  trite  nor  unac 
ceptable. 

Tuscany,  it  is  true,  with  barely  two  millions  of 
inhabitants,  constitutes  but  a  small  section  of  Italy, 
which  counts  a  population  of  twenty-five  millions ; 
but  the  part  which  this  petty  State  may  enact,  in 
the  event  of  an  insurrectionary  movement  through 
out  the  land,  will  certainly  exercise  a  powerful  influ 
ence  over  the  destinies  of  the  Italian  Peninsula. 
For  Tuscany,  small  though  it  be,  is  far  from  an 
insignificant  province  of  Italy,  embracing  as  it  does 
several  cities  and  towns  of  considerable  importance 
—  Florence,  Pisa,  Sienna,  Lucca,  Leghorn,  Pistoia, 
and  Arezzo ;  and  thus  it  possesses  a  power  and 
influence  far  beyond  what  it  would  derive  from  its 
limited  population  and  extent  of  territory.  For 
cities,  important  and  influential  in  every  country, 
are  especially  so  in  Italy :  in  them  are  concentrated 
the  entire  wealth,  intelligence,  commercial  enter-' 
prise,  and  intellectual  activity  of  the  provinces. 
Were  it  not  for  Milan  and  Venice,  Lombardy  would 
lie  supine  beneath  the  iron  heel  of  Austria ;  the  des 
tiny  of  the  States  of  the  Church  depends  on  the  will 


INTRODUCTION.  IX 

of  Rome ;  and  Naples  gives  the  law  to  that  king 
dom  of  which  it  is  the  metropolis.  Everywhere  in 
Italy  cities  dominate  :  it  is  only  by  their  power  that 
tyranny,  domestic  or  foreign,  can  or  will  be  over 
thrown. 

In  addition  to  the  power  and  influence  that  Tus 
cany  derives  from  its  cities,  Florence,  indissolubly 
associated  as  it  is  with  glorious  recollections  of  past 
greatness,  gives  to  the  province  of  which  it  is  the 
capital,  a  distinguished  position  among  other  Italian 
States.  Proud  memories  of  the  fame,  the  power, 
the  riches  and  conquests  of  Florence  in  bygone 
times  —  of  the  great  names  which  have  shed  lustre 
on  its  literature,  arts,  science  and  arms — foster  the 
bright  hopes  and  lofty  aspirations  in  which  Italians 
indulge,  of  the  future  of  their  native  land. 

Judging  from  the  past  as  well  as  from  present 
indications,  Tuscany  will  not  remain  inert  if  a 
struggle  for  freedom  should  begin  in  Northern  Italy. 
The  people,  united  by  a  bond  of  common  grievances 
proceeding  from  the  same  source,  will  join  in  the 
cry  of  "  Down  with  the  Austrians ;"  and  the  first 
cannon  shot  from  the  fortress  of  Milan  will  be 
echoed  from  the  ramparts  of  Florence. 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

As  unforseen  and  sometimes  trivial  occurrences 
frequently  give  an  unexpected  turn  to  affairs,  no 
prediction  of  the  course  and  result  of  future  events 
can  be  relied  upon:  still  —  as  the  liberal  cause  was 
lost,  during  the  late  revolution  in  Italy,  mainly 
through  democratic  violence  and  want  of  unity  of 
action  —  should  the  Italians  now  unite,  as  they  seem 
disposed  to  do,  and  fight  for  their  freedom  under 
the  banner  of  the  King  of  Sardinia,  hope  may  not 
unreasonably  be  entertained  that  the  issue  of  the 
apparently  impending  struggle  will  be  widely  differ 
ent  from  that  of  the  last.  "Wise,  indeed,  it  is  for 
the  people  of  a  country  which  has  long  been  op 
pressed,  to  renounce  the  idea  of  a  form  of  govern 
ment  demanding  for  its  due  administration  qualities 
to  which  oppression  does  not  give  birth  —  and  wise 
ly  will  they  act  in  seeking  to  acquire  the  power  of 
self-government  under  the  guidance  of  a  constitu 
tional  monarch. 

M.  S.  C.  • 

Craufordsburn,       ) 
March  23d  J 


NOTE  TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


THE  prophecy  contained  in  'the  author's  introduc 
tion  has  proved  true.  On  the  breaking  out  of  the 
late  French-Sardinian  war  with  Austria,  a  blood 
less  revolution  at  once  took  place  in  Tuscany.  The 
Grand  Duke,  not  waiting  to  meet  the  indignation  of 
his  people,  fled  to  the  protection  of  his  Austrian 
master.  After  the  battle  of  Solferino  had  decided 
the  fate  of  the  war,  he  abdicated  in  favor  of  his  son 
Ferdinand ;  but  the  Florentines  utterly  refused  to 
accept  again  the  House  of  Lorraine  as  rulers,  and 
have  established  the  same  form  of  government  which 
was  adopted  in  1848.  What  will  be  the  issue,  de 
pends  on  the  brave  hearts  of  the  Tuscans,  and  the 
laissez  faire  policy  of  Napoleon  III. 


CONTEXTS. 


CHAP.  PAGE. 

I.  BATHS  OP  MONTH  CATINI    . 1 

II.  VIAREGGIO 19 

III.  LUCCA,   AND   THE   BATHS   OP  LUCCA 42 

IV.  A  PISAN  CARNIVAL 80 

V.  FLORENTINE  SCENES  AND  AMUSEMENTS       .        .        .        .96 

VI.  SOCIETY 116 

VII.  THE  PEASANT 153 

VIII.  MANNERS  AND  INCIDENTS 191 

IX.  RELIGION 251 

X.  COMPAGNIA   DELLA  MlSERICORDIA 282 

XI.  GALILEO  AND  MICHAEL  ANGELO 301 

XII.  THE  LATE  REVOLUTION 313 


IJ.EE  IN  TUSCANY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BATHS    OF    MONTE    CATINI. 

ITTLE  as  Tuscany  can  compete  with 
some  of  the  small  German  States 
bordering  on  the  Rhine,  in  regard 
to  variety  and  abundance  of  mineral- 
waters,  it  yet  possesses  several  medicinal 
springs  that  enjoy  a  high  local  reputation 
for  their  sanative  properties.  For  those 
afflicted  with  rheumatic  affections,  the  sul 
phureous  Baths  of  Pozzolenti,  adjoining  the  town 
of  Leghorn,  are  considered  beneficial.  In  the 
same  locality  also  are  the  springs  of  Monte  K"ero, 
containing  a  large  proportion  of  salts  of  mag 
nesia,  much  frequented  in  the  summer  months, 
for  drinking  merely.  Near  Pisa,  the  Baths  of  San 


2  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

Guiliano  afford,  or  at  least  profess  to  afford,  a 
means  of  relief  or  cure  for  various  ills  that  afflict 
suffering  humanity.  The  Baths  of  Lucca  enjoy  a 
still  more  distinguished  and  wide-spread  reputation 
— a  reputation,  however,  probably  much  enhanced 
by  their  agreeableness,  in  point  of  scenery  and 
shade,  as  a  summer  place  of  residence.  But  of  all 
the  mineral  waters  of  this  part  of  Italy,  none  rank 
so  highly  in  popular  estimation — .either  as  regards 
internal  or  external  application — as  those  of  Monte 
Catini,  a  small  watering-place,  situated  in  the  north 
ern  part  of  Tuscany.  These  springs,  which  are 
Crown  property,  bring  in  a  considerable  revenue  to 
the  State,  from  the  large  annual  export  of  the  waters 
that  takes  place  to  the  principal  cities  of  the  Grand 
Duchy.  On  most  occasions  of  trifling  indisposition, 
the  citizens,  both  rich  and  poor,  of  the  Tuscan 
towns,  instead  of  having  recourse  to  doctors'  drugs, 
are  wont  to  avail  themselves  of  those  which  nature 
has  compounded,  and  swallow  huge  draughts  of 
Monte  Catini  water :  which,  however,  as  far  as 
pleasantness  of  flavor  is  concerned,  has  little  to 
boast  of  over  the  medicaments  which  load  the 
shelves  of  the  apothecary. 

In  point  of  beauty,  the  situation  of  the  Baths  of 
Monte  Catini  has  much  to  recommend  them. 
Placed  on  the  verge  of  the  rich  Yal  Nievole,  where 
the  plain  terminates  abruptly  in  a  range  of  well- 
wooded  heights,  the  Baths  offer  on  their  northern 


BATHS    OF   MONTE   CATINI.  6 

side  a  series  of  highly  attractive  views.  Immediate 
ly  above,  perched  like  an  eagle's  nest  on  the  very 
summit  of  the  declivity,  is  seen  the  small  town  of 
Monte  Catini,  crowning  the  steep  sides  of  the  hill 
from  which  both  it  and  the  Baths  below  derive  their 
name.  To  the  right  and  left,  other  hills,  forming  a 
portion  of  the  same  northern'  chain,  with  pictur 
esquely-varied  forms  and  outlines,  enhance  the  at 
traction  of  the  scene.  But  though  the  Baths  offer 
some  very  charming  views,  these  sink  into  insignifi 
cance  in  point  of  beauty  compared  with  those  which 
the  sides  or  summits  of  the  adjacent  hills  afford. 
Ascending  even  a  slight  elevation  in  the  vicinity, 
and  looking  southward,  the  eye  wanders  over  a  far- 
reaching,  fertile  plain.  In  proportion  as  the  step 
ascends,  so  does  the  prospect  gain  in  beauty  and 
extent ;  till  from  the  summit  of  Monte  Catini,  or  the 
contiguous  heights,  a  view  is  gained  which  well  re 
pays  the  fatigue  and  toil  the  steep  ascent  involves. 

Below,  gleaming  in  the  bright  light  of  an  Italian 
sun,  stretches  out  the  rich  vale  of  Mevole,  blending 
in  the  distance  with  the  still  richer  vales  through 
which  the  Arno  runs.  Amidst  fields  teeming  with 
the  rich  products  of  a  fertile  and  well-cultivated  soil, 
amidst  olives,  mulberries,  vines  and  figs,  gleam  forth 
the  numerous  dwellings  of  the  peasantry,  interspers 
ed  with  white  glistening  villages  and  small  country 
towns.  Here  and  there  rises  up  a  chapel  tower; 
here  and  there,  too,  amidst  the  sea  of  verdure,  the 


LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

country  palace  of  a  nobleman  may  be  seen.  To  the 
south  and  east  a  range  of  undulating  hills,  wearing 
the  misty  veil  of  distance,  closes  in  the  view ;  to  the 
west,  towering  above  the  calm  waters  of  the  small 
lake  of  Bientina,  is  seen  a  mountain,  forming  a  por 
tion  of  the  Pisan  group,  advancing  boldly  into  the 
plain ;  and  to  the  north  a  chain  of  lofty  hills — here 
separating  into  gentle  slopes,  there  parting  into  steep 
ravines,  crowned  not  unfrequently  with  villages  and 
ruined  towers,  rising  out  of  groves  of  chestnut  and 
olive  trees — combine  to  form  a  grand,  imposing 
framework  for  the  rich  and  smiling  scene. 

Like  most  parts  of  Tuscany,  the  whole  country 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini  wears 
quite  a  garden-like  aspect  of  cultivation,  neatness 
and  care.  Not  a  crooked  fence,  not  a  useless  hedge, 

7  O     i 

not  a  weed,  not  a  waste  patch  of  ground  is  visible 
any  where.  Vines  fastened  to  stakes,  or  trailing 
their  graceful  branches  from  tree  to  tree,  form  the 
boundaries  of  fields  and  farms.  In  the  early  sum 
mer  months  a  vast  variety  of  wild  flowers  are  to  be 
seen,  many  of  which  attain  to  the  dignity  of  garden 
plants  in  England.  Amidst  the  long,  slender  stalks 
of  wheat,  the  beautiful  purple  gladiolis  springs  up* 
abundantly,  and  is  succeeded,  a  little  later  in  the 
year,  by  a  bright-colored  kind  of  lupin ;  while  at  the 
same  time  the  gumcistus  may  be  seen  on  every  side, 
showering  its  delicate  white  blossoms  on  the  turf 
around.  Towards  the  end  of  June  the  orange  lily 


BATHS   OF   MONTE   CATINI.  5 

becomes  a  common  ornament  of  the  woods  and 
fields;  whilst  with  July  the  crowning  glories  of 
Italy's  floral  riches  appear  in  the  sweet-scented 
clematis,  and  the  still  more  fragrant  and  beautiful 
myrtle ;  both  springing  up  under  the  sole  care  of  a 
kindly  nature ;  both  doomed  for  the  most  part  to 
bloom  neglected  and  unseen,  and  to  yield  their  per 
fume  solely  to  the  passing  breeze. 

Like  the  mineral  waters  of  Germany,  those  of 
Monte  Catini  are,  during  the  summer  season,  much 
used  for  bathing  purposes.  Hither,  particularly 
during  the  months  of  July  and  August,  flock  from 
all  parts  of  Tuscany  a  health  or  pleasure-seeking 
crowd. 

Those  who  may  have  seen  the  Baths  of  Monte 
Catini  during  the  winter,  will,  if  subsequently  visit 
ants  at  the  springs  in  the  fashionable  bathing 
months,  find  a  wonderful  difference  in  their  aspect. 
Without  shops,  without  trade,  without  the  slightest 
pretension  to  anything  that  might  be  called  a  town, 
the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini  may  be  considered  to 
have,  for  at  least  nine  months  in  the  year,  a  merely 
nominal  existence.  The  whole  permanent  popula 
tion  of  the  place  consists  but  of  the  keepers  of  a  few 
lodging-houses  and  hotels.  In  the  vast,  palace-like 
Government  structure,  which  absorbs  within  its 
capacious  centre  and  wings  the  greatest  portion  of 
the  migratory  sujnmer  throng,  spiders  and  ghosts 
for  a  large  portion  of  the  year  revel  in  silence 


6  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

and  darkness  unmolested.  The  stranger,  whom 
curiosity  should  at  such  a  season  allure  to  the  spot, 
would  find  his  meditations  almost  as  secure  from 
interruption  from  the  world  without,  as  if,  like  a 
hermit  of  the  olden  time,  he  inhabited  a  cell  in  some 
rocky  wilderness.  Beneath  the  long  avenue  of 
trees  leading  to  the  principal  spring,  he  will  hear  no 
voice  save  that  of  the  strolling  mendicant,  or  the 
more  agreeable  accents  of  the  peasant,  who,  with  a 
courteous  "felice  giorno,"  passes  on;  and  to  the 
few  inhabitants  of  the  locality  or  the  neighborhood 
he  may  chance  to  meet,  he  will  find  himself  an  ob 
ject  of  curiosity  and  surprise,  and  a  phenomenon  as 
rare  and  extraordinary  as  that  which  might  be  pre 
sented  by  the  sight  of  a  swallow  in  the  depth  of  the 
winter  season. 

Even  so  late  in  the  year  as  the  month  of  May, 
when  all  Italian  nature  is  thoroughly  awake,  when 
the  fields  are  green  with  waving  corn,  the  trees  in 
leaf,  the  sky  serene,  the  air  warm,  and  the  birds  in 
full  song,  the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini  still  wTore  to 
my  eye,  on  my  arrival  there,  the  aspect  of  a  place 
asleep :  not  in  a  profound  sleep,  however,  for  symp 
toms  of  an  approaching  animation,  a  coming  awak 
ening,  were  beginning  to  be  visible  at  this  time. 
Through  the  open  doors  of  long-deserted  houses, 
the  voices  of  workmen  wrere  to  be  heard,  as  they 
painted  here,  and  whitewashed  there,  in  preparation 
for  the  opening  of  the  bathing  season.  Into  long- 


BATHS    OF    MONTE    CATINI.  7 

darkened  rooms  sunlight  and  air  were  allowed  to 
penetrate  once  again,  whilst  sweeping,  dusting,  and 
pojishing  of  the  furniture  actively  went  on.  The 
roads  were  cleaned,  the  walks  were  weeded,  while 
garden-plots  or  pleasure-grounds  were,  in  accord 
ance  with  the  happy  inspiration  of  some  moment, 
re-arranged.  An  air  of  business  was  visible  every 
where  :  I  heard  the  note  of  preparation  for  the 
rising  of  the  curtain  on  the  scene.  As  the  month 
rolled  on,  the  signs  of  activity  and  of  animation 
increased ;  the  very  frogs,  who  had  been  exerting 
their  voices  pretty  freely  for  some  time  previously, 
seemed  to  croak  more  loudly  as  June  drew  nigh : 
from  every  pool,  and  brook,  and  water-course,  arose 
a  clamor  that,  especially  in  the  night-time,  filled 
the  air.  Out  came  the  fire-flies  as  the  day  expired, 
and  lit  up  the  roads  and  lanes  with  their  bright, 
flashing  lamps,  vieing  with  the  stars  above  in  num 
ber  and  brilliancy.  Thus  May  died  out,  and  with 
the  1st  of  June  Monte  Catini  may  be  said  to  take 
off  its  nightcap ;  for  the  bathing  season  has  then 
officially  begun. 

But  though  the  place  has  nominally  entered  on 
a  new  stage  of  existence,  for  three  weeks  at  least 
it  bears  in  its  aspect  the  signs  of  its  old  drowsy, 
yawning,  lethargic  state;  in  spite  of  its  newly-ar 
ranged  electric  telegraph,  its  freshly-opened  post- 
office,  and  its  grand  grocer's  shop,  whose  shelves 
display  a  goodly  array  of  imposing  canisters.  Un- 


LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

til  after  Midsummer-day,  it  is  only  drop  by  drop 
that  the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini  fill.  "With  July, 
however,  when  the  bathing  mania  in  all  parts  of 
Tuscany  sets  in,  the  stream  of  population,  which 
has  been  flowing  so  languidly  during  the  preceding 
month  towards  the  Baths,  grows  strong  and  deep  ; 
to  the  infinite  satisfaction  and  advantage  of  the 
keepers  of  lodging  houses  and  hotels.  "With  the  in 
crease  of  visitors,  beggars  multiply  in  number ;  a  nu 
merous  concourse  of  the  blind,  the  halt,  the  maimed 
the  sick,  and  ragged,  all  ply  their  trade  with  zeal. 

Beneath  the  long  avenue  of  overarching  trees,  a 
motley  throng  of  promenaders  may  be  seen  in  the 
cool  morning  and  evening  hours.  Representatives 
of  almost  every  class  of  Tuscan  society  may  be  dis 
tinguished  there,  from  the  cringing  beggar  to  the 
haughty  peer.  The  peasant  woman,  with  her  blue 
cotton  dress  and  handkerchief  covering  her  dark 
hair,  looks  with  unconcealed  curiosity  and  surprise 
at  the  many-flounced  skirt  and  fashionable  bonnet 
of  the  Florentine  belle.  The  petty  shopkeeper  of 
the  provincial  town  and  the  Leghorn  merchant, 
with  their  wives  and  families  ;  the  lawyer  and  Gov 
ernment  official ;  all  swell  the  morning  and  evening 
concourse  at  the  springs.  Long-robed  ecclesiastics 
abound,  from  the  humble  country  priest  to  the  pomp 
ous  prelate  boasting  the  dignity  of  an  archiepiscopal 
see.  Carriages  dash  along  the  drive,  at  a  rate  that 
none  but  Italian  coachmen  ever  think  of  forcing 


BATHS    OF   MONTE   CATINI. 

their  horses  to  achieve.  Itinerant  shopkeepers  set 
up  their  stalls,  and  solicit  the  passer-by  with  eager 
looks  and  words  to  buy  their  wares.  From  the  tent 
erected  by  the  migratory  showman,  there  issues  forth 
a  troop  of  dancers  and  athletes,  bedaubed  with  paint, 
bedecked  with  tinsel  finery,  and  who,  to  the  sound 
of  drum  and  fife,  parade  about  with  the  view  of  at 
tracting  spectators  to  performances  announced  in 
stupendous  capital  letters  to  be  the  most  wonderful 
in  the  world.  On  every  side,  life,  noise  and  anima 
tion  prevail.  The  butterfly,  that  has  just  issued 
from  its  chrysalis,  affords  an  apt  illustration  of  the 
changed  aspect  which  the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini 
presented  to  my  view,  on  my  return  there  in  July 
after  a  short  absence. 

The  several  mineral  springs  of  Monte  Catini  vary 
somewhat  in  equality,  but  their  elementary  nature 
is  much  the  same.  All  are  saline :  the  Binfresco 
slightly,  the  Tetuccio  more,  and  the  Fortuna  most 
of  all.  In  public  estimation  the  Tetuccio  ranks  the 
first ;  the  visitors  to  this  spring  exceeding  infinitely 
in  amount  the  frequenters  of  the  other  two.  The 
morning  scene  which  the  Tetuccio  presents,  is  a  gay 
and  animated  one.  Beneath  an  awning,  covering  a 
portion  of  a  small  garden  whose  roses  and  oleanders 
are  in  full  bloom,  may  be  seen  a  motley  company, 
some  standing,  but  the  most  part  sitting,  in  groups 
of  three  or  four,  around  small  circular  marble  tables 
covered  with  glasses,  destined  to  be  repeatedly  filled 


10  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

from  the  large  reservoirs  of  tepid  mineral  water  close 
at  hand.  Nauseous  as  is  the  beverage,  it  is  wonder 
ful  to  see  the  equanimity  with  which  it  is  swallowed 
down  ;  not  in  one  great  draught,  as  inclination  would 
prescribe,  but  sip  by  sip,  in  pursuance  of  the  phy 
sician's  command.  Old  and  young,  all  have  their 
glasses  before  them,  or  in  their  hands,  whilst  ani 
mated  conversations  are  carried  on.  New  groups 
arrive,  familiar  faces  depart ;  there  is  a  perpetual 
bowing  of  heads,  an  interminable  shaking  of  hands. 
By  nine  o'clock,  however,  the  morning  drama  is  at 
an  end,  and  the  drinkers  have  disappeared  :  around 
the  marble  tables,  covered  with  empty  glasses,  are 
seen  circles  of  untenanted  chairs,  and  the  plash  of 
falling  water  is  the  only  sound  that  breaks  upon 
the  ear. 

The  ordinary  routine  of  existence  at  Monte  Catini 
taxes  the  energies  of  both  mind  and  body  but  in  a 
slight  degree :  life  seems  to  pass  away  in  a  kind  of 
blissful  indolence  there.  The  "  dolce  far  niente,"  so 
dear  to  an  Italian  heart,  is  indulged  in  to  its  full 
extent.  The  water-drinking  business  of  the  morning 
coming  to  an  end,  the  company  separate,  and  retire 
to  their  respective  rooms,  to  drive  away  with  a  cup 
of  coffee  or  a  substantial  meal,  the  lingering  flavor 
of  the  Tetuccio  spring.  Between  breakfast  and  the 
bathing  time,  which  varies  from  eleven  to  one,  a 
gentle  doze  is  taken,  either  on  bed  or  sofa,  as  conven 
ience  or  inclination  may  suggest.  Dinner  at  two 


BATHS  OF  MONTE  CATINI.  11 

o'clock  evokes  signs  of  energy  and  animation  on 
every  side,  which  continue  for  an  hour  or  an  hour 
and  a  half,  till,  the  great  event  of  the  day  being 
concluded,  the  last  glass  of  wine  swallowed,  the 
last  apricot  eaten,  the  company  formally  separate, 
with  the  polite  wish,  mutually  expressed,  that  each 
may  enjoy  a  sound  repose ;  whereupon,  ladies  and 
gentlemen  repair  to  their  respective  sleeping  apart 
ments,  doff  their  outer  garments,  close  the  shutters, 
adjust  their  pillows,  and  enjoy  two  hours  of  blissful 
unconsciousness  of  all  the  trials  and  miseries  of  life, 
as  attested  by  the  loud  nasal  sounds  that  may  be 
heard  issuing  from  the  darkened  rooms. 

~Not  more  surely,  however,  does  the  light  of  morn 
ing  arouse  the  lark  to  life  and  animation,  than  do 
the  shades  of  evening  put  an  end  to  the  afternoon 
slumberer's  dreams.  The  gentleman  resumes  his 
coat,  and  the  lady  makes  her  toilet  afresh,  as  the 
sun  sinks  downward  to  the  west,  and  between  five 
and  six  o'clock  the  whole  population  of  the  Baths 
is  out  of  doors  again;  for  the  most  part  bending 
their  steps  onward  towards  the  Kinfresco  spring, 
where,  after  a  glass  or  two  being  drank,  they  stroll 
about,  some  here,  some  there,  exchanging  salutations 
with  their  friends ;  talk  of  the  heat,  repeat  the  latest 
news,  and  tell  of  the  last  wonderful  cure  that  the 
waters  of  Monte  Catini  have  performed.  Carriages 
dash  up  and  down  beneath  the  avenue  of  trees ;  and 
horses  decked  out  with  feathers  and  gay  trappings 


12  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

are  stimulated  to  a  frantic  speed.  "With  the  vanish 
ing  twilight  vanishes  also  the  gay  scene,  and  "be 
tween  eight  and  nine,  when  the  darkness  of  night 
conies  on,  the  voice  of  the  cicala,  a  huge  species  of 
locust,  reigns  supreme. 

Within  doors,  however,  considerable  animation 
prevails,  for  the  hour  of  supper  has  arrived.  That 
meal  being  ended,  those  of  the  company  who  do 
not  feel  themselves  overpowered  by  the  exertions 
of  the  day,  repair  to  the  casino,  a  suit  of  rooms 
assigned  to  the  purposes  of  amusement.  Here,  in 
a  large  apartment,  brilliantly  lit  up,  is  to  be  found 
every  evening  a  considerable  assembly.  Some  talk, 
some  play  at  cards,  some  read  French  or  Italian 
newspapers;  others  stake  a  paul  in  a  game  of 
chance,  called  the  Tombola,  a  particular  kind  of 
lottery :  of  which  species  of  amusement  all  Italians 
seem  to  be  enthusiastically  fond.  Music  also  gen 
erally  lends  its  aid  to  make  the  hours  pass  by  pleas 
antly  and  fleetly.  In  a  nation  gifted  with  such 
musical  tastes  as  are  the  Italians,  in  every  assem 
blage,  amongst  the  upper  and  middle  classes,  will 
certainly  be  found  both  gentlemen  and  ladies  pos 
sessing  no  mean  skill  as  vocal  or  instrumental  per-" 
formers.  Thus,  at  Monte  Catini,  scarcely  an  evening 
elapses  without  some  black-moustached,  dark-haired 
amateur  sitting  down  at  a  fine  piano  forte,  with 
which  the  casino  is  furnished,  to  favor  the  company 
with  a  sonata ;  and  occasionally  a  philanthropic  lady 


BATHS  OF  MONTE  CATINI.  13 

will  minister  to  the  general  happiness  by  singing  an 
opera  air,  for  which  act  she  is  sure  to  be  rewarded 
by_a  shower  of  "bravas"  at  the  end.  Dancing,  too, 
occasionally  affords  to  the  juvenile  portion  of  the 
assembly  an  amusement  of  a  still  more  attractive 
kind  ;  rising  in  dignity  from  the  impromptu  waltz, 
suggested  by  the  enlivening  strains  of  some  musical 
amateur,  to  the  more  solemn  occasions  when  ladies 
and  gentlemen  in  full  ball  dress  perform  their  varied 
evolutions  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  full  band. 
But  be  it  ball,  or  dance,  or  song,  or  cards,  or  simple 
talk  that  crowns  the  labors  of  the  day,  the  company 
separate  at  an  early  hour,  to  prepare,  by  several 
hours  of  sleep,  for  a  repetition  on  the  morrow  of  the 
exertions  undergone  the  preceding  day. 

Though  a  favorite  resort  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Tuscany  in  general,  the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini 
number  few  foreigners  amongst  their  visitors.  Amid 
the  crowd  of  dark-eyed  and  dark-complexioned 
Italians,  that  lounge  along  the  walks  or  cluster  at 
the  springs,  a  ruddy  English  face,  though  so  familiar 
a  sight  in  the  chief  towns  of  Tuscany,  is  rarely  to  be 
seen.  France  and  Germany  contribute,  also,  but 
little  more  than  England  to  swell  the  bathing  crowd, 
which  pours  in  so  freely  during  the  months  of  July 
and  August,  from  Florence,  Leghorn,  Pisa  and  the 
minor  provincial  Tuscan  towns.  The  absence  of  the 
English  element,  at  least,  is  easily  explained.  To 
the  native  of  the  British  Isles,  bred  up  to  activity  of 


14  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

body  and  mind,  the  indolent,  drowsy  kind  of  life, 
which  almost  every  rich  or  well-born  Italian  likes  to 
lead,  must  ever  be  uncongenial.  To  an  Italian,  the 
one  short,  solitary,  shady  walk  or  drive,  of  which 
the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini  can  boast,  is  amply  suf 
ficient  for  every  purpose  of  exercise.  To  lounge 
morning  and  evening  under  the  one  avenue  of  over 
arching  trees,  or  to  drive  up  and  down,  criticising 
new  faces,  remarking  new  dresses,  seeing  and  greet 
ing  acquaintances  or  friends,  contents,  as  far  as 
bodily  exertion  is  concerned,  the  Italian's  utmost 
desire.  But  it  is  not  so  with  the  English  visitor ; 
who,  even  in  amusement,  craves  exercise  of  a  more 
varied,  active  kind  —  a  craving  which  the  Baths 
of  Monte  Catini  can  hardly  satisfy  during  the  hot 
months  of  August  or  July,  from  the  absolute  want 
of  agreeable  shady  walks,  rides  or  drives.  For  rich, 
and  indeed  beautiful,  as  is  much  of  the  scenery  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  Baths,  the  roads  and  walks  are 
all  too  much  exposed  to  the  hot  glare  of  a  July  or 
August  sun,  to  admit  of  driving,  riding,  or  walking 
being  indulged  in  until  the  sun  is  down ;  an  hour 
too  late  to  allow  of  pleasure  excursions  being  made 
of  any  but  the  most  limited  description.  For  this 
reason,  therefore,  the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini  are  but 
in  little  favor  with  the  numerous  members  of  the 
active  Anglo-Saxon  race,  who,  either  from  motives 
of  economy  or  of  pleasure,  have  taken  up  their 
abode  in  Tuscany.  Thoroughly  Italian,  therefore, 


BATHS  OF  MONTE  CATINI.  15 

is  Monte  Catini,  and  thoroughly  Italian  it  will  prob 
ably  remain  to  the  last  hour  of  its  existence,  how 
ever  much  the  migratory  English  may  multiply  in 
Italy. 

Though  liberality  is  somewhat  a  rare  attribute  of 
the  Government  of  the  present  Grand  Duke  of  Tus 
cany,  this  quality  is  certainly  displayed  by  it  in  so 
far  as  regards  its  acts  in  connection  with  the  amuse 
ments  of  the  summer  visitors  to  this  locality.  Freely 
may  the  stranger  enter  the  brilliantly  lit  up  casino ; 
freely  may  he  join  in  the  dance,  or  listen  to  the 
performance  of  a  well- trained  band;  freely  do  the 
French  and  Italian  papers  lie  at  his  command  :  the 
light  music  and  journals  being  supplied  at  the  cost 
of  the  "Administration,"  as  the  presiding  power  in 
this  place  is  called.  This  liberality,  however,  is  far 
from  being  of  a  disinterested  character;  as,  the 
greatest  portion  of  Monte  Catini  being  Crown  prop 
erty,  the  Grand  Duke's  revenues  are  materially 
augmented  by  there  being  a  numerous  resort  of 
visitors  to  the  springs.  The  liberality,  therefore, 
displayed  in  providing  amusement  gratis  for  the 
guests,  may  be  compared  to  the  sowing  of  a  bushel 
of  corn  with  the  assured  hopes  of  receiving  back  an 
abundant  harvest  in  return.  That  the  policy  thus 
pursued  is  a  wise  and  profitable  one  there  can  be 
little  doubt ;  for  Italians  generally,  both  of  the  upper 
and  middle  classes,  have  fortunes  of  a  very  moder 
ate  amount :  and  probably  many  of  those  families 


16  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

who  come  to  Monte  Catini  during  the  fashionable 
bathing  season,  have  to  economize  in  various  ways 
for  some  time  previously  in  order  to  provide  the 
funds  necessary  for  a  summer  trip.  To  persons  such 
as  these — to  persons,  too,  endowed  by  nature  with  a 
keen  love  of  pleasure,  as  for  the  most  part  all  Ital 
ians  are — the  offer  of  amusements  free  of  cost  will 
prove  in  itself  a  lure  of  a  very  effective  kind  to  draw 
visitors  to  the  baths,  all  sanitary  considerations 
apart ;  but  when,  in  addition,  the  highly  reputed 
medical  properties  of  the  mineral  waters  are  taken 
into  account,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  place  should 
overflow  with  visitors  :  to  the  benefit  not  only  of  the 
Grand  Duke,  whose  huge  hotel  is  amply  filled,  but 
to  the  profit  also  of  the  poor  peasant  of  the  neigh 
borhood,  who  lets  his  humble  apartment  for,  to  him, 
the  handsome  sum  of  threepence  or  fourpence  a 
night. 

Short,  however,  is  the  harvest  season,  for  either 
peasant  or  Grand  Duke.  Towards  the  end  of 
August,  the  morning  convivial  gatherings  at  the 
Tetuccio  spring  dwindle  down  considerably  in  num 
bers  ;  by  the  first  week  in  September  most  of  the 
company  have  departed,  and  the  remainder  are  pre-- 
paring  to  take  a  flight ;  and  on  the  15th,  when  the 
Baths  are  formally  closed,  the  last  lingering  rem 
nants  of  the  bathing  crowd  have  left.  The  crack 
of  the  vetturino's*  whip  is  then  no  longer  heard, 

*Hack-driver. 


BATHS  OF  MONTE  CATINI.  17 

and  the  drive  echoes  no  more  with  the  roll  of  car 
riage  wheels  and  the  tramp  of  horses.  The  awning 
at_  the  Tetuccio  is  taken  down,  the  marble  tables 
vanish  from  the  scene,  and  the  hotel-keeper  sits 
down  to  count  his  gains,  and  compare  the  profits  of 
the  season  just  expired  with  those  of  former  years. 
The  careful  mistress  of  the  lodging  house,  with  a 
sigh  at  the  transitoriness  of  sublunary  joys,  takes 
down  the  curtains  of  her  untenanted  beds,  folds  up 
her  table-covers  and  quilts,  consigns  her  delf  and 
china  to  the  cupboard,  and  closes  the  window-shut 
ters  of  her  deserted  rooms :  all  signs  of  life  and  ani 
mation  disappear,  and  the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini 
once  more  lie  buried  in  their  habitual  nine  months' 
sleep. 

Long,  however,  before  the  close  of  the  fashionable 
season,  I  left  the  place,  consequently  my  description 
of  its  autumnal  aspect  is  derived,  not  from  the  re 
sults  of  personal  observation,  but  from  information 
afforded  me  by  some  of  the  very  few  permanent 
residents  at  the  Baths.  In  the  height  of  their  sum 
mer  gaiety  I  went  away,  bearing  with  me  many 
pleasant  remembrances  of  the  place — remembrances 
of  quiet  strolls,  through  fields  and  lanes,  to  humble 
-dwellings,  where  I  was  always  a  welcome  guest — of 
soft  summer  nights,  when  the  sparkling  stars  yielded 
in  brilliancy  to  the  fire-flies'  flashing  light  —  of 
rambles  through  groves,  where  the  myrtle  offered 
its  beautiful  white  blossoms  to  my  sight ;  and,  above 


18 


LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 


all,  remembrances  to  which  I  shall  ever  fondly  turn, 
of  courteous  acts,  kind  wishes,  and  friendly  looks  and 
words. 

"  We  go  to  bed  at  five  o'clock  in  the  evening  in 
the  winter  months,  because  it  is  cold,  and  we  have 
nothing  in  the  world  to  do,"  said  the  mistress  of  a 
small  inn  at  Monte  Catini  to  me ;  and  I  thought 
that  nothing  could  depict  more  forcibly  than  these 
simple  words  the  utter  stagnation  of  life  prevailing 
during  the  winter  months  in  that  locality. 


CHAPTER  II. 

VIAKEGGIO. 

'BOUT  fifteen  miles  from  Lucca  there 
lies  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterra 
nean  a  small  sea-port  town  called  Yi- 
areggio.  Insignificant  in  -point  of 
size,  almost  destitute  of  trade,  save  that  con 
nected  with  the  fishermen's  pursuits,  the  ex 
istence  it  leads  is,  for  the  greatest  part  of  the 
year,  of  the  very  quietest  and  most  monoto 
nous  description.  The  surf  breaks  upon  an  almost 
untrodden  strand ;  the  sunset  glow  upon  the  mag 
nificent  mountains  of  Carrara,  arrests  no  wandering 
stranger's  admiring  gaze ;  and  the  tramp  of  horses' 
feet  and  the  roll  of  carriage  wheels  are  almost  un 
known  sounds  in  the  streets  of  Yiareggio. 

But  it  is  not  always  thus;  for  a  short  season  of 
gaiety  and  animation  annually  chequers  the  ordina 
rily  quiet  life  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  locality. 
Soon  as  the  bathing  movement  has  fairly  com- 


20  LIFE    IN   TUSCANY. 

menced  in  Tuscany,  Viareggio,  like  the  Baths  of 
Monte  Catini,  emerges  in  the  hot  sun  of  summer 
like  a  butterfly  from  its  chrysalis.  Brief,  however, 
is  its  period  of  festivity,  for,  unlike  the  bathing 
towns  and  villages  on  the  coasts  of  the  British  Isles, 
which  enjoy  a  succession  of  visitors,  from  May  until 
October,  the  bathing  towns  and  villages  on  the 
shores  of  Italy,  can  count  upon  but  a  two  months' 
influx  of  strangers.  According  to  Italian  ideas,  to 
bathe  in  May  savors  strongly  of  insanity ;  to  bathe 
in  June  is  deemed  an  act  considerably  more  rational, 
but  still  one  that  sense  and  prudence  must  condemn; 
and  it  is  not  till  the  sol  Iconc  (the  lion  sun)  of  July 
is  glowing  overhead,  that  public  opinion  in  Italy 
sanctions  a  rush  into  the  sea.  August  is  looked 
upon  also  with  considerable  favor  in  reference  to 
its  sea-bathing  qualifications,  but  is  far  from  being 
so  highly  thought  of  in  this  respect  as  its  prede 
cessor  July.  September  puts  the  whole  flock  of 
bathers  everywhere  to  flight ;  except  those  eccentric 
foreigners,  the  "Inglese,"  who,  notwithstanding 
the  decreasing  temperature,  still  continue  their  daily 
immersions  in  the  waves.  October  finds  the  bath 
ing  boxes  closed,  the  hotels  deserted,  and  the  lodg 
ing  houses  consigned  to  darkness,  silence  and  sol 
itude. 

It  was  in  the  middle  of  July,  in  the  very  height 
of  the  Italian  bathing  season,  that  I  first  made 
acquaintance  with  Viareggio.  The  approach  to  it 


VIAREGGIO.  21 

from  Lucca,  is  characterized  by  considerable  beauty 
of  scenery.  The  road,  for  the  first  few  miles,  lay 
through  a  country  where  vines,  trained  so  as  to 
form  festoons  from  tree  to  tree,  encircled  fields  that 
looked  like  gardens  in  point  of  neatness  and  care  of 
cultivation.  In  the  ground,  where  but  ten  days 
before  the  reaper's  sickle  had  been  at  work  gather 
ing  in  sheaves  of  golden  grain,  young  plants  of 
maize  had  already  sprouted,  and  through  the  line 
of  trees  that  fringed  the  road,  one  caught  glimpses 
in  every  direction  of  the  red  tile-roofed  dwellings  of 
the  peasantry. 

Scenes  such  as  these,  however,  soon  gave  place  to 
others  of  a  different  character.  On  reaching  one 
side  of  the  plain  in  which  Lucca  stands,  the  road 
began  to  wind  up  through  a  kind  of  gorge  in  a 
chain  of  hills  covered  with  a  perfect  forest  of  chest 
nuts  ;  vines,  fields  and  houses  disappeared  from 
view,  and  all  the  eye  now  saw  was  the  bright  blue 
sky  overhead,  and  the  steep  declivities  of  the  wind 
ing  glen  below,  clothed  with  the  bright  green  foliage 
of  that  tree  which  is,  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  dis 
trict  where  it  grows,  what  the  bread-fruit  tree  is  to 
the  South  Sea  islanders.  The  ascent,  though  steep, 
is  not  a  lengthened  one ;  and  before  long,  the  horses, 
after  a  short  pause  at  the  summit  to  take  breath, 
commenced  to  descend  rapidly  the  other  side  of  the 
mountains.  The  road  wound  backwards  and  for 
wards,  curve  after  curve,  in  an  extremely  snake-like 


22  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

fashion ;  a  course  of  proceeding  highly  to  be  com 
mended,  both  as  regarded  considerations  of  safety 
and  scenery:  the  latter  especially,  for  the  views 
which  every  turn  disclosed,  were  of  a  very  beautiful 
description,  and  of  a  highly  varied  character. 

Below,  at  the  furthest  edge  of  the  narrow  plain, 
to  which  the  chestnut-covered  hills  served  on  one 
side  as  boundary,  lay  the  little  town  of  Yiareggio, 
gleaming  brightly  in  the  sunshine ;  while  beyond, 
the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  sparkling  in 
the  same  bright  rays,  mingled  in  the  distance  with 
the  still  deeper  azure  of  the  sky.  On  another  side, 
the  fine  mountains  of  Carrara  rose  up  to  view,  their 
bald  crags  and  precipitous  peaks  towering  majes 
tically,  high  above  the  calm  blae  sea  and  the  tree- 
fringed  coast,  and  the  villages  nestling  amongst  the 
chestnut  groves,  which  closed  the  base  and  partially 
adorned  the  sides  of  the  whole  mountain  range. 

The  immediate  vicinity  of  Yiareggio,  however,  is 
marked  by  a  feature  not  of  the  most  agreeable  kind; 
for  no  sooner  do  we  enter  on  the  narrow  plain  which 
intervenes  between  the  mountain  chain  and  Yiareg 
gio,  than  there  is  to  be  seen  on  either  side  a  marsh, 
which  even  Tuscan  industry  seems  not  to  have  been 
able  to  convert  to  any  other  use  than  the  growth  of 
osiers,  that  flourish  in  company  with,  beautiful  white 
water-lilies.  Up  almost  to  the  very  doors  of  Yia 
reggio  this  swamp  extends;  a  closeness  of  vicinity 
that,  it  appeared  to  me,  must  prejudicially  affect  the 


VTAREGGIO.  23 

salubrity  of  the  locality ;  but,  according  to  the  Ital 
ian  doctrine  on  the  subject,  the  sea-breeze  blows 
away  from  Viareggio  every  kind  of  unwholesome 
exhalation. 

Within  the  memory  of  man,  Yiareggio  has  made 
a  great  advance  in  dignity,  having  become  at  least 
trebled  in  size  and  population  during  the  last  fifty 
years;  still,  however,  it  will  have  to  grow  at  the 
same  rate  for  the  next  succeeding  half  century, 
before  it  can  take  a  distinguished  place  amongst 
the  towns  of  Tuscany.  Yet,  insignificant  in  extent 
as  it  is  at  present,  Yiareggio  evidently  pretends  to 
a  far  higher  grade  in  point  of  station  than  that  of  a 
mere  fishing  village.  A  capacious  church,  crowned 
with  a  large  dome,  daily  invites,  with  open  doors, 
the  devout  Catholic  to  enter ;  and  a  large,  waste- 
looking  piece  of  ground,  covered  with  parched-up 
grass,  and  surrounded  by  a  fringe  of  scrubby  trees, 
proudly  assumes  the  name  of  the  "  Piazza  Grande." 
A  canal,  cut  from  the  sea  into  the  heart  of  the  little 
town,  allows  boats  to  discharge  their  cargoes  con 
veniently  ;  and  close  to  it,  under  a  double  row  of 
mushroom-shaped  trees,  is  the  favorite  lounge  of  the 
seafaring  population,  where  neighbors  meet  to  sit 
and  talk  together  about  their  good  or  bad  success 
in  the  take  of  fish,  or  the  last  news  of  the  vine 
disease,  or  the  conscription  (a  word  of  terror  to  the 
Tuscan  peasant);  and  gossip  also  (for  human  nature 
is  much  the  same  amongst  high  and  low)  about  the 


24  LIFE  IN   TUSCANY. 

petty  scandals  of  their  circle — how  Guiseppe  and 
his  wife  fell  out,  and  how  all  Tomaso's  earnings  are 
squandered  away  in  cards  and  drink. 

During  the  course  of  years,  Viareggio,  originally 
built  at  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  shore, 
has  been  creeping  seaward  ;  and  line  after  line  of 
street  has  been  added  :  one  row  of  houses  excluding 
the  view  of  the  sea  from  that  which  had  been  pre 
viously  built,  to  be  itself  subsequently  excluded  by 
a  new  row  in  a  like  unpleasant  fashion.  The  line 
of  houses  that  now  occupies  the  van — the  post  of 
pleasure,  honor  and  profit,  in  the  bathing  season — 
has  a  sufficiently  attractive  and  cheerful  appearance. 
Though  the  dwellings  are  for  the  most  part  small, 
yet  nearly  all  of  every  size,  from  the  so-called 
"palazzo"  of  four  stories  to  the  peasant's  dwelling 
numbering  but  two,  are  characterized  by  iron  bal 
conies,  by  walls  of  gleaming  whiteness,  and  by  win 
dows  embellished  and  shaded  by  bright  green 
Venetian  blinds,  closing  externally  after  the  Italian 
fashion.  Here  it  is  that  pilgrims  to  the  salt  water 
chiefly  take  up  their  residence  ;  and  here  it  was  that 
my  friend  and  myself  resolved  to  fix  ourselves  during 
the  two  weeks'  stay  we  wished  to  make  at  Viareg 
gio.  But  moderate  as  were  our  requirements  with 
regard  to  accommodation,  we  found  that  even  an 
attic  to  let,  commanding  a  view  of  the  sea,  was  al 
most  an  unattainable  luxury.  "  Tutta  plena,  tutta 
piena"  (all  full),  was  the  unwelcome  answer  that 


VIAREGGIO.  25 

awaited  our  inquiries,  as  we  wended  our  way  from 
door  to  door  on  our  unexpectedly  difficult  mission. 
At  length,  when  all  hopes  of  success  were  nearly 
extinguished,  we  chanced  upon  a  house  in  which 
there  actually  were  two  apartments  unoccupied. 

The  house  belonged  to  a  "  Contadino" — the  name 
applied  to  a  man  of  the  peasant  or  working  classes 
in  Italy — but,  both  outside  and  inside,  the  dwelling 
was  very  unlike  a  Contadino's  common  residence, 
into  which  no  person  of  civilized  habits  could  dream 
of  entering  as  a  tenant.  But  yet,  though  light  and 
cheerful,  with  whitened  walls  and  large  glass  win 
dows,  the  two  vacant  apartments  had  not  a  very 
inviting  aspect,  in  connection  with  the  idea  of  even 
a  fortnight's  residence  in  them.  No  sofa  or  arm 
chair  offered  to  the  tired  or  languid  frame  a  luxu 
rious  lounge,  and  the  eye  wandered  dejectedly  over 
superannuated  rush-seated  chairs,  invalided  looking- 
glasses,  which  appeared  as  if  they  had  just  passed 
through  a  severe  crisis  of  small-pox,  and  beds  quite 
mountain-like  in  the  altitude  to  which  they  rose. 
Still,  as  the  sea  stretched  out  before  the  windows  so 
beautifully  blue,  as  the  air  felt  deliciously  fresh,  as 
the  waves  broke  with  such  a  melodious  sound  upon 
the  beach,  and  as  no  other  accommodation  by  the 
sea-side  was  procurable,  a  bargain  was  struck  with 
the  mistress  of  the  mansion ;  and  in  a  very  philo 
sophic  frame  of  mind,  making  sage  remarks  on  the 


26  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

subject  of  the  superfluities  of  existence,  we  entered 
upon  the  possession  of  the  rooms  in  question. 

It  must  be  owned  that  it  did  require  some  philos 
ophy  to  submit  cheerfully  to  the  various  discomforts 
of  our  habitation ;  but  after  all,  our  stock  of  equa 
nimity  was  not  put  to  the  severe  test  which  our  first 
twenty-four  hours'  experience  of  life  in  the  Conta- 
dino's  house  gave  us  reason  to  anticipate ;  for  after 
some  sharp  passages  of  words  with  our  landlady,  of 
whom  we  thought  we  had  reason  to  complain,  our 
circumstances  assumed  a  more  smiling  aspect. 

"Abbia  pazienza;  siamo  Contadini,"*  was  the 
apology  put  forward  by  Violante,  our  landlady,  for 
every  deficiency  in  her  establishment  complained  of: 
when  our  dinner-table  exhibited  a  very  limited 
amount  of  spoons  and  forks,  when  our  lamps  nightly 
evinced  a  most  uncontrollable  propensity  to  go  out, 
the  same  appeal  to  our  forbearance  was  sure  to  be 
made — " Abbia  pazienza ;  siamo  Contadini."  Not 
withstanding,  however,  the  Contadino  plea,  we  en 
joyed  the  benefit  of  a  considerable  redress  of 
grievances :  the  lights  increased  materially  in  bril 
liancy  and  longevity,  and  the  important  spoon  and 
fork  question,  as  well  as  other  matters  that  came 
under  discussion,  underwent  before  long  a  satisfac 
tory  settlement. 

"  But,  Contadini  as  you  say  you  are,  how  do  you 

*  Have  patience  ;  we  are  peasants. 


VIAREGGIO.  27 

happen  to  have  such  an  excellent  house  as  this  to 
live  in  ? "  I  said  one  day  to  Violaute,  retorting  upon 
her-favorite  exclamation  of  Abbia  pazienza. 

"  The  house  was  a  gift  to  me  from  a  lady  with 
whom  I  lived  for  some  years  in  service,"  replied 
Yiolante;  "she  was  a  countess,  who  had  a  fine 
house  in  Florence,  and  so,  being  very  rich,  and  very 
generous  and  good,  she  had  this  house  built  express 
ly  for  my  husband  and  myself,  that  we  might  earn 
money  by  it  in  the  bathing  season.  A  good  lady 
she  was  indeed  to  me !  buon9  anima,  may  her  soul 
rest  in  glory.'7 

The  munificent  gift  of  the  countess  to  Yiolante 
came  most  opportunely,  for  through  its  means  she 
was  able  to  support  her  family  when  her  husband, 
a  sailor,  was  incapacitated  from  working  by  an 
accident,  which  rendered  the  amputation  of  one  of 
his  feet  necessary,  and  thus  reduced  him  to  the 
position  of  a  cripple.  True,  the  profits  derived  from 
letting  the  house  in  the  short  bathing  season,  were 
trifling,  but  as  the  expenditure  of  the  peasant's  fam 
ily  was  on  ,the  same  scale  also,  the  one  sufficed  for 
the  requirements  of  the  other.  A  piece  of  bread 
served  for  their  breakfast ;  a  decoction  of  hot  water 
and  maccaroni,  flavored  occasionally  with  a  bone, 
afforded,  under  the  name  of  soup,  materials  for  their 
dinner ;  and  their  supper  consisted  of  a  dish  of  kid 
ney  beans  served  up  in  oil :  altogether,  a  style  of 
living,  it  must  be  confessed,  by  no  means  costly. 


28  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

Occasionally,  however,  the  family  fared  in  a  more 
luxurious  manner,  as  I  had  an  opportunity  of  ob 
serving  from  my  window,  which  looked  down  upon 
a  small  garden ;  there,  underneath  the  shade  of  a 
spreading  vine,  the  master  and  mistress  of  the  man 
sion,  with  a  son  and  two  daughters,  daily  assembled 
around  a  small  table  to  make  their  mid-day  meal. 
The  exceptions  to  the  general  rule  only  occurred, 
however,  on  saints'  days  and  Sundays,  when  a  dish 
of  fish  or  of  stewed  tomatoes  graced  the  board  ;  but 
no  matter  what  might  be  the  style  of  dinner,  no 
sooner  did  the  master  of  the  house,  the  one-footed 
sailor,  perceive  me  at  my  window,  than  with  a  most 
courteous  bow  he  would  very  hospitably  request  me 
to  assist  at  the  rural  banquet  that  was  going  on 
below — a  piece  of  politeness  which  was  invariably 
responded  to  on  my  part  by  wishing  the  company 
a  buon  appetito*  a  wish  enjoined  by  good  manners 
according  to  the  established  Italian  form. 

In  one  respect,  our  crippled  landlord  was  quite 
a  curiosity  in  appearance,  for  he  exhibited  almost 
an  African  tint  of  skin.  Swarthy  as  is  generally 
the  complexion  of  the  working  classes  in  Italy,  their 
swarthiness  rarely  amounts  to  a  degree  of  darkness 
sufficient  to  raise  doubts  in  the  stranger's  mind  as  to 
their  claim  to  a  European  origin ;  but  Moschardino,f 

*  Good  appetite. 

f  A  soubriquet ;  one  of  the  very  many  in  general  use  amongst  the 
working  classes  of  Italy.  I  have  found  sometimes  a  mairs  next  door 
neighbors  were  unacquainted  with  his  real  name. 


VIAREGGIO.  29 

i 

as  our  disabled  host  was  usually  called,  miglit  well 
have  passed  for  one  who  had  drawn  his  earliest 
breath  by  the  banks  of  the  river  'Nile  or  Ganges. 
However,  it  always  remained  a  matter  of  specula 
tion  with  me  how  far  Moschardino's  oriental  com 
plexion  was  due  to  the  action  of  the  sun,  or  how  far 
ascribable  to  a  cause  easy  of  removal  by  the  appli 
cation  of  a  little  soap  and  water. 

Our  landlady,  Viol  ante,  was  a  perfect  specimen 
of  the  Tuscan  Contadina,  the  most  hard-working, 
indefatigable  specimen  of  human  nature  anywhere 
possible  to  find.  "With  the  earliest  dawn  of  morn 
ing,  almost  before  the  cock  had  begun  to  crow,  I 
heard  her  voice ;  and  she  still  was  bustling  about 
long  after  I  had  lain  down.  How  such  an  amount 
of  energy,  of  strength  and  endurance  could  have 
been  put  into  any  feminine  form,  appeared  to  me  a 
matter  of  surprise  ;  but  in  the  lean,  sinewy  frame  of 
Violante,  and  in  her  furrowed  brow,  one  read,  as  in 
a  printed  book,  a  history  of  long  years  of  toil. 

"  It  is  a  hard,  hard  life,  I  lead,"  she  said  to  me 
one  day,  in  answer  to  a  remark  of  mine ;  "  but  how 
can  it  be  helped  ?  My  husband  can  do  nothing  now 
to  earn  his  bread,  and  the  burden  falls  on  me  to 
support  him  and  our  family.  Ah !  it  was  a  great 
mistake  I  made  when  I  was  young,  to  marry ;  but 
I  knew  nothing  then  of  what  was  before  me — of  the 
hard  lot  that  falls  to  a  wife  and  mother.  And  Gui- 
seppe,  too,  though  he  is  a  good  husband  now,  in 


30  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

former  times  used  to  get  drunk  and  beat  me.  All ! 
would  to  Heaven  I  bad  never  married,"  she  ex 
claimed,  reiterating  the  wish  I  bad  so  often  previ 
ously  heard  uttered  by  the  peasant  women  of  Tus 
cany,  "  for  the  life  I  lead,  still  striving  to  earn  a 
quattrino  for  my  family's  sake,  whom  I  love  too  well, 
is  a  life  of  the  hardest  slavery." 

The  weather  set  in  very  warm  at  the  beginning  of 
the  third  week  in  July  at  Yiareggio  ;  yet,  however 
powerful  might  be  the  mid-day  sun,  its  great  heat 
was  always  tempered  by  a  gentle  breeze  blowing 
freshly  from  the  sea ;  whose  blue  expanse,  ever 
ruffled  through  this  cause,  never  once  assumed  dur 
ing  my  stay  a  mirror-like  aspect.  Still,  morning, 
noon,  evening,  night,  the  air  was  filled  with  the 
sound  of  breaking  waves,  whose  foam,  glittering  by 
day  in  the  bright  beams  of  an  Italian  sun,  formed 
a  sparkling  snow-white  fringe  along  the  sandy  shore. 
Nothing  more  tempting-looking  for  bathing  purpo 
ses  than  the  Mediterranean  at  Yiareggio  can  be 
conceived  ;  nor  did  the  reality  belie,  in  this  respect, 
my  most  ardent  anticipations  of  enjoyment ;  for  in 
describably  delightful  was  it  to  plunge  beneath  the 
tepid  sea,  and  to  feel  the  warm  spray  of  the  break 
ing  waves  dash  over  head  and  face,  as  in  quick 
succession  their  curving  crests,  bursting  with  a  roar, 
dissolved  in  a  sheet  of  milk-white  foam  upon  the 
beach.  Little  can  those  whose  salt-water  experi 
ences  are  confined  to  the  seas  that  wash  the  British 


VIAREGGIO.  31 

or  Irish  coasts,  form  a  fair  idea  of  the  luxury  of  an 
ocean  bath  under  the  warm  sun  of  Italy.  No  chilly 
waters  arrest  the  breath,  or  send  a  shudder  through 
the  sensitive  frame  ;  and  neither  prudential  motives, 
fears  for  health,  dread  of  congealing  blood,  colorless 
flesh,  nor  shivering  limbs,  limit  the  bather's  pleasure 
to  a  few  minutes'  time. 

To  do  the  inhabitants  (both  permanent  and  occa 
sional)  of  Viareggio  justice,  they  showed  the  utmost 
appreciation  of  the  marine  privileges  they  enjoyed; 
in  particular,  also,  it  must  be  recorded  that  the  ris 
ing  male  population  of  the  town  evinced  this  feeling 
in  the  strongest  and  most  unequivocal  way.  Happy 
boys  of  Viareggio  !  While  your  luckless  cotem- 
poraries  in  other  places  and  other  climes  are  stam 
mering  over  dull  books,  puzzling  their  brains  over 
sums  in  arithmetic,  and  inking  their  fingers  in  a  la 
borious  attempt  to  make  well-rounded  "  o's  "  and 
straight-backed  "  t's,"  you  are  reveling  in  a  salt 
water  elysium  from  morn  till  night — now  in  the  tide, 
jumping,  shouting,  laughing,  dancing,  splashing, 
gamboling  away — now  taking  a  race,  in  Eden's  pri 
meval  garb,  along  the  beach — then  rolling  or  tumb 
ling  in  the  hot  sand,  and  again  rushing  oft'  into  the 
waves,  to  commence  a  new  series  of  evolutions. 

"How  often  do  you  bathe  in  the  day?"  I  once 
asked  an  urchin  of  about  ten  years  old,  whom  I  met 
upon  the  shore. 

"  Six  or  seven  times,"  he  replied. 


32  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

"  And  how  long  do  you  stay  in  the  water  each 
time?"  I  rejoined. 

"  Generally  from  one  to  two  hours,"  he  answered 
— a  reply  which  will  serve  to  give  an  idea  of  the 
amphibious  kind  of  existence  led  in  the  summer 
months  by  the  juvenile  population  of  Yiareggio. 

A  very  much  more  limited  allowance  of  bathing 
is  that  which  custom  prescribes  for  the  grown-up 
portion  of  the  community ;  two  baths  a  day  being 
the  general  amount  indulged  in  by  both  ladies  and 
gentlemen.  The  bath,  however,  is  very  variable  in 
duration :  some  renounce  their  aqueous  life  at  the 
end  of  twenty  or  thirty  minutes ;  others  extend  their 
morning  and  afternoon  bath  each  into  a  recreation 
of  two  hours.  Small  wooden  houses,  three  in  num 
ber,  rising  upon  a  foundation  of  piles  above  the 
water,  a  few  yards  distance  from  the  beach,  and 
communicating  with  the  shore  by  a  narrow  bridge, 
are  used  as  bathing  boxes,  by  every  bather  who  as* 
pires  to  belong  in  any  way  to  the  aristocratic  or 
affluent  class.  For  a  lower  order — for  those,  in  short, 
who  find  it  inconvenient  to  pay  the  "  Bagnetti " 
regulation  price,  which  runs  at  the  rate  of  three 
pence  or  fourpence  a  dip — the  shore  affords  sheds, 
or  rather  screens  of  straw,  to  serve  as  dressing- 
rooms,  at  a  still  lower  price. 

But  well  frequented  as  are  the  precincts  of  the 
Bagnetti  and  straw  screens,  they  are  scantily  peo 
pled  in  comparison  with  the  aspect  of  the  shore, 


VIAREGGIO.  33 

where  no  such  articles  of  luxury  are  to  be  found, 
and  where,  from  morning  till  night,  a  motley  com 
pany  is  to  be  seen  either  going  to,  or  returning  from, 
the  sea.  Here,  comes  a  troop  of  soldiers  marching 
along  with  measured  tread,  and  there,  a  swarm  of 
shouting  urchins ;  a  guardian  of  the  peace,  in  all 
the  pomp  of  cocked  hat  and  sword,  is  followed  by 
a  brace  of  Capuchin  friars,  with  long  brown  cloth 
robes,  cord-girt  waists,  bare  feet,  and  heads  protect 
ed  from  the  scorching  sun  by  hats  of  straw  with 
ample  brims.  Day  after  day  is  the  same  scene  dis 
played,  as  day  after  day  the  sun  shines  bright  and 
warm,  in  a  sky  where  only  a  few  fleecy  wreaths  of 
vapor  are  seen  to  veil  the  glory  of  its  clear  deep 
blue. 

Unimpeachable,  however,  as  are  the  merits  of 
Viareggio  so  far  as  its  bathing  prerogatives  are  con 
cerned,  it  yet  has  two  very  considerable  draw-backs 
to  its  agreeableness  as  a  place  of  residence  in  the 
summer  time.  On  the  English  coast,  the  absence 
of  trees  and  shade  is  a  circumstance  of  little  mo 
ment  for  visitors  to  the  sea  in  search  of  recreation 
or  health,  as  the  sun  there  exerts  a  comparatively 
mild  sway,  even  in  the  height  of  his  dog-day  reign. 
But  in  Italy,  on  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean, 
where  for  many  successive  hours  of  a  long  summer's 
day,  a  flood  of  light  and  heat  is  poured  down  unin 
terruptedly  from  a  cloudless  sky,  shade  becomes  not 

only  a  luxury,  but  (for  all  above  the  peasant  class) 
3 


34  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

almost  a  necessity  of  existence.  In  Italy,  in  such 
places  where  no  groves,  no  avenues  of  overarching 
trees,  afford  a  protection  from  the  glare  and  heat,  a 
journey  to  and  fro,  or  round  a  room,  or  an  excursion 
lip-stairs,  down-stairs,  or  to  a  neighboring  apart 
ment,  must  perforce  content  the  cravings  of  a  rest 
less  spirit  for  motion,  during  eight  hours  at  least  of 
diurnal  existence.  Such  being  the  case  at  Yiareg- 
gio — there  stretching  inland  for  half  a  mile  or  more, 
a  waste  of  sand,  on  which  nothing  but  some  prickly 
sea-plants  and  coarse  grass  will  grow — a  walk,  or 
stroll,  or  lounge  in  the  open  air  by  day,  takes  rank 
amongst  the  list  of  unattainable  enjoyments.  Even, 
indeed,  in  the  cool  early  morning  and  late  evening 
hours,  outdoor  exercise  could  only  be  indulged  in  at 
the  cost  of  an  amount  of  toil  and  fatigue  which  ren 
dered  walking  a  kind  of  purgatorial  performance  ; 
for  in  the  loose,  soft,  dry  sand,  which  covered  the 
beach  and  extended  far  inland,  the  foot  sank  deeply. 
Thus,  between  the  hot  sun  and  the  yielding  sand, 
Yiareggio  enforced  (except  as  far  as  the  occupation 
of  bathing  was  concerned)  a  very  sedentary  exist 
ence. 

About  twenty-three  o'clock,  as  the  hour  before 
sunset  is  called  in  Italy,  Yiareggio,  wrhich  looked  as 
if  it  was  indulging  in  a  nap  all  day,  begins  to  assume 
a  wakeful  aspect,  and  shows  signs  of  life  and  ani 
mation.  Bright  green  jalousies  are  thrown  wide 
apart,  whilst  every  balcony  has  its  group  of  occu- 


VIAREGGIO.  35 

pants,  to  enjoy  the  coolness  of  the  evening  air;  and 
a  little  later,  as  the  sun  sinks  lower  in  the  west,  from 
almost  every  house  along  the  shore,  the  inmates 
issue  to  bid  the  day  good-bye,  from  a  favorite  spot 
of  rendezvous  on  the  beach,  or  from  a  still  more 
favorite  wooden  pier  which  stretches  out  beyond. 
The  beach  is  the  halting  place  of  the  most  juvenile 
portion  of  the  community,  who,  with  wooden  spades 
or  spoons,  dig  caverns,  raise  mountains,  build  houses, 
make  cakes  or  pies,  and  perform  many  wonderful 
labors  in  the  damp  sand ;  while  mammas,  still  keep 
ing  a  watchful  eye  over  the  movements  of  their 
Biancas  or  Giovannis,  salute  their  passing  friends^ 
or  exchange  with  one  another  a  budget  of  domestic 
news.  Here  stalks  "  young  Italy,"  in  a  light  linen 
coat,  with  a  cigar  in  his  lips,  and  staring  fixedly, 
as  is  the  mode  universally  with  Italian  gentlemen, 
at  every  youthful  feminine  face  he  sees.  Dressed  out 
in  the  most  extravagant  style  of  an  extravagant 
fashion,  with  bonnet  hanging  on  her  neck,  with 
dress  swelled  out  by  flounces,  hoops,  and  horse-hair 
to  a  wondrous  size,  the  Italian  lady  sails  proudly 
on,  rejoicing  in  the  thought  that  her  attire  is  in 
complete  accordance  with  the  last  Parisian  mode. 
The  Capuchin  friar,  in  his  brown  cloth  robe,  wan 
ders  to  and  fro,  and  looks  with  a  moody  air  and 
lustreless  eye  upon  all  around  ;  while  here  and  there 
a  portly  priest,  having  his  head  adorned  by  a  large 
three-cornered  hat,  and  his  feet  set  off  by  a  pair  of 


36  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

large  buckles  in  his  shoes,  seems  from  his  genial  air 
to  participate  largely  in  all  the  pleasant  influences 
of  the  scene. 

But  few,  however,  are  the  loiterers  on  the  beach 
compared  with  those  who  stroll  onwards  to  the 
wooden  pier,  which  offers  a  pleasant  lounge,  as  well 
as  numerous  seats  to  the  idle  throng.  Here  friends 
walk  to  and  fro  together,  or  sit  side  by  side  engaged 
in  careless  talk,  while  before  their  unheeding  eyes 
extends  a  scene  that,  once  beheld,  stamps  itself  in 
delibly  on  the  stranger's  memory.  Almost  on  the 
verge  of  the  ocean  bed,  in  which  it  would  seem 
about  to  sink  to  rest,  is  seen  the  sun,  no  longer  a 
globe  of  fire  casting  forth  a  furnace  glow  of  heat 
and  light,  but  a  ball  of  burnished  gold,  shedding  a 
golden  radiance  on  water,  earth  and  sky.  The 
windows  of  Yiareggio  flash  like  diamonds  in  the 
yellow  light,  and  high  above  the  town,  and  far  ex 
tending  towards  the  north,  tower  the  splendid 
mountains  of  Carrara,  with  their  bold  summits  and 
wooded  slopes  bathed  in  the  most  exquisite  violet 
hues.  Still  further  in  the  distance  the  bold  headland 
of  Cape  Corvo,  rising  at  the  entrance  of  the  Gulf 
of  Spezzia,  stands  up  in  strong  relief  against  the 
glowing  sky.  Lower  and  lower  as  the  sun  sinks 
towards  the  horizon,  brighter  and  brighter  glows 
the  reflection  of  its  golden  hues  in  the  flashing  mir 
ror  of  the  sea ;  gaining,  at  length,  the  line,  where 
sky  and  water  seem  to  meet,  one  minute  half  its 


VIAREGGIO.  37 

burnished  surface  is  seen  above  the  wave,  in  the 
next  its  rapidly  dwindling  crescent  form  has  van 
ished  from  the  sky,  which  slowly  pales  into  a  silvery 
gray,  while  the  purple  tints  upon  the  mountains 
merge  into  a  twilight  gloom.  Night  comes  apace ; 
but  even  as  its  darkening  shadow  falls  around,  a 
faint  roseate  light  begins  to  creep  up  the  western 
sky,  as  if  the  departed  luminary  were  returning  on 
his  track  again.  Slowly  spreading,  the  soft  suffu 
sion  rises  up  on  high,  till  a  large  portion  of  the  vault 
of  heaven  glows  with  a  ruddy  light,  that  tinges 
faintly  the  calm  expanse  of  water  underneath. 
North,  east,  and  south  the  darkness  deepens  over 
head,  while  the  round  orb  of  the  moon  grows  bright 
and  the  stars  appear.  Some  minutes  pass,  and  then 
the  west,  seemingly  loath  to  exchange  the  rich  liv 
ery  of  the  day  for  the  sable  hues  of  night,  slowly, 
reluctantly,  as  it  were,  yields  to  the  latter's  irresist 
ible  sway.  The  outline  of  the  distant  headland 
melts  into  the  darkened  sky,  and  the  nearer  moun 
tains  seem  to  grow  loftier  in  the  deepening  gloom. 
From  the  west  the  rich  tints  of  sunset  fade  quite 
away ;  whilst  the  sea  stretches  out  a  dark  expanse, 
save  where  the  moonbeams  fling  a  glittering  trail ; 
and  in  the  illimitable  depths  of  the  dark  blue  vault 
above  innumerable  stars  are  sparkling  brilliantly. 

But  beautiful  as  was  the  day  in  its  decline,  the 
night  to  which  it  yields  possesses  charms,  though 
widely  differing,  of  a  not  less  attractive  kind. 


38  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

Through  the  heated  air  a  sense  of  coolness  is  dif 
fused  by  the  light  evening  breeze,  which  wafts 
slowly  towards  the  pier  small  fishing  barks  belong 
ing  to  the  seafaring  population  of  the  town.  Like 
diamond-dust  gleam  the  myriad  stars  of  the  Milky 
Way,  whilst  the  nearer  stellar  worlds  illuminate  the 
dark  vault  of  heaven  with  their  bright,  sparkling 
lamps.  In  unclouded  majesty  the  full  moon  pursues 
her  upward  course,  marking  the  sea  beneath  with  a 
rippling  silvery  trail.  High  up  the  side  of  the  lofty 
mountains  numerous  fires  break  into  view,  which 
increase  and  wane,  till  they  successively  expire. 
Mingled  with  the  melodious  roar  of  the  breaking 
waves  are  faintly  heard  the  joyous  shouts  and 
laughter  of  young  girls,  seen  in  the  distance,  by  the 
bright  moonlight,  spiting  in  the  waters  of  the  surf- 
fringed  sea.  IsTo  sound  that  comes  but  falls  melodi 
ously  on  the  ear,  and  not  an  object  visible  but  seems 
to  add  to  the  soft  beauty  of  the  scene,  from  the  ma 
riner's  distant  warning  light  in  the  isle  of  Tino, 
scarcely  visible  to  the  eye,  to  the  full-orbed  moon 
shining  through  the  clear  depths  of  an  Italian  sky. 
Beautiful  as  is  the  scene,  however,  there  are  few 
of  the  assemblage  on  the  pier  that  give  much  heed 
to  it,  further  than  to  remark  on  the  pleasant  cool 
ness  of  the  air;  and  before  long,  when  conversa 
tional  topics  grow  somewhat  scarce,  or  those  dis 
cussed  become  threadbare,  a  homeward  movement 
takes  place  amongst  the  throng.  Following  the  ex- 


VIAREGGIO.  39 

ample  set,  we  also  swell  the  numbers  of  the  retreat 
ing  band,  and  halt  with  a  considerable  portion  of 
its  strength  at  a  cafe,  where,  still  in  conformity  with 
the  mode,  we  take  our  seat  at  a  small  round  table, 
one  out  of  several  which  occupy  the  space  immedi 
ately  before  the  door.  Knocking  the  table  to  arrest 
the  waiter's  attention — who  is  rushing  about  with 
a  kind  of  frenzied  haste,  now  to  receive  orders,  now 
to  receive  money,  now  to  execute  the  orders  that 
have  been  received — we  at  length  are  fortunate 

O 

enough  to  obtain  a  moment's  audience,  in  which  we 
intimate  our  desire  to  indulge  in  the  luxury  of  an 
ice  cream.  The  much  toiling  individual  again  hur 
ries  off  amidst  a  volley  of  knocks  resounding  from 
every  side ;  to  which,  to  the  credit  of  that  important 
personage  be  it  said,  no  attention  is  given  until  our 
behest  has  been  obeyed ;  this  done,  however,  he 
hastens  off  once  more  in  quest  of  a  supply  of  gelati 
di  pesca  and  di  albicocca*  to  satisfy  the  popular  de 
mand. 

Very  rightly  does  public  opinion  at  Yiareggio 
flow  in  favor  of  refreshments  of  this  kind,  for  ices, 
excellent  even  in  cold  northern  climes,  possess  pe 
culiar  merits  under  an  Italian  summer  sky.  "What 
a  thrill  of  pleasure  does  the  taste  of  the  first  cold 
morsel  send  through  the  heated,  languid  frame !  and 
to  what  a  keen  sensation  of  regret  does  the  sight  of 
the  empty  glass  give  rise!  .N~ot  that  the  ices  of 

*  Peach  and  apricot  ices. 


40  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

Viareggio  or  of  Tuscany  in  general  have  any  pre 
eminent  merits  of  an  artistic  kind;  and  in  a  less 
sultry  clime  they  would  probably  be  found  unde 
serving  of  particular  eulogy.  One  merit,  however, 
peculiar  to  this  land,  they  do  possess  undoubtedly, 
for  when,  after  looking  steadily  at  my  empty  glass, 
which  sanitary  considerations  forbid  me  to  renew, 
I  ask  what  is  to  pay,  I  find  that  six  soldi  (an  amount 
which,  translated  into  English,  becomes  about  two 
pence  halfpenny)  will  satisfy  the  demand. 

Beautifully  bright  shines  the  moon  as  we  slowly 
take  our  way  towards  our  abode,  and  darkly  shows 
each  shadow,  seen  in  contrast  with  the  silvery  white 
ness  that  characterizes  every  object  on  which  the 
moonbeams  fall.  The  doors  and  windows  of  every 
house  are  thrown  wide  open  to  admit  the  warm, 
yet  fresh-feeling  evening  air.  Lights  sparkle  inside: 
here,  voices  engaged  in  eager  conversation  are  heard ; 
there,  the  chords  of  a  piano  mingle  with  a  singer's 
rich  harmonious  tones.  Outside  the  doors  of  the 
lodging-houses,  belonging  to  the  peasant  class,  the 
family  of  the  contadino  sit  enjoying  the  fresh  air. 

We  pass  along  a  lengthened  row  of  neat,  well- 
whitewashed  dwellings  to  where  our  temporary  one, 
distinguished  from  its  neighbors  by  an  image  of  the 
Madonna  decorating  the  front,  invites  our  entrance 
with  open  doors.  Before  the  threshold  sit  Moschar- 
dino  and  Yiolante,  with  different  members  of  their 
family.  There  is  Paolo,  a  youth  of  nineteen,  who, 


VIAREGGIO.  41 

to  his  mother's  regret,  is  on  the  eve  of  marriage ; 
and  that,  too,  with  Italian  improvidence,  to  a  woman 
poor  as  himself:  there,  also,  is  Caterina,  a  very 
handsome,  dark-eyed  girl,  who  thinks  that  human 
felicity  consists  in  the  possession  of  a  silk  dress  and 
the  wearing  of  a  gold  chain.  There  also  stands 
lounging  by,  Mariana,  a  half-witted  girl  of  sixteen, 
who  looks  as  if  an  abhorrence  of  soap  and  water 
was  the  predominating  feeling  in  her  darkened  mind. 
All  rise  at  our  approach,  all  wish  us  "felice  sera " 
in  a  breath,  and  the  ever  hospitable  Moschardino 
invites  us  to  sit  down,  which  invitation,  as  the  old 
gentleman's  conversation  is  somewhat  unintelligible, 
from  the  extreme  volubility  of  his  "utterance,  I  de 
cline.  Yiolante  hastens  to  bring  lights  :  we  ascend 
the  stairs,  and  after  exchanging  a  few  words  with 
our  fellow-lodgers,  two  Lucchese  ladies,  whose  apart 
ments  adjoin  ours,  we  follow  their  example  in  pre 
paring  to  seek  repose. 

"  Felicissima  notte,"*  says  Yiolante,  in  the  soft 
dialect  of  Tuscany ;  "  Felicissima  notte,"  I  respond  ; 
and,  presto,  clambering  up  the  steep  altitudes  of  my 
couch,  and  gaining  the  soft  and  sheltered  summit 
of  my  Mont  Blanc,  I  wish  felicissima  notte  to  Yia- 
reggio  and  the  whole  world. 

*  Most  happy  night. 


CHAPTER  III. 

LUCCA,  AND  THE  BATHS  OF  LUCCA. 

UCCA  rises  out  of  a  plain  that  is  cel 
ebrated  for  its  fertility  ;  the  natural 
productiveness  of  the  soil  being  in 
creased  by  a  most  perfectly  arranged 
system  of  irrigation.  Stimulated  by  the 
combined  influences  of  heat  and  moisture, 
all  vegetation  assumes  the  most  luxuriant 
aspect.  A  richer  and  a  more  productive 
country  than  that  by  which  the  walls  of  Lucca  are 
surrounded,  is,  perhaps,  not  to  be  found  anywhere. 
Lucca,  like  the  most  of  the  Italian  towns  in  the 
present  day,  derives  now  its  sole  interest  from  its 
past  existence.  Places  characterized  as  the  scenes 
of  remarkable  or  stirring  events  always  exercise  a 
kind  of  spell  over  the  imagination.  The  cell  where 
the  patriot  has  been  confined,  tile  square  which  has 
witnessed  the  martyr's  agony,  the  ground  which 
has  been  the  theatre  of  a  famous  battle,  all  exert  a 
powerful  influence  over  the  mind  and  fancy.  It 


LUCCA.  43 

matters  not  though  the  cell  be  but  four  common 
bare  stone  walls,  though  the  square  be  an  ordinary 
paved  court,  surrounded  by  mean  and  insignificant 
dwellings,  or  the  battle  ground  be  but  an  uninter 
esting-looking  expanse  of  cornfields,  intersected  by 
quickset  hedges — a  power  resides  in  all  these  objects 
to  attract  the  eye,  to  enlist  the  interest,  and  to  touch 
the  feelings.  The  captive  comes  before  us  with  his 
pale,  thin,  careworn  face;  around  the  stake  to  which 
the  hapless  victim  is  attached  rise  up  the  glowing 
flames;  and  the  din  of  a  murderous  conflict — the 
tramp  of  horses,  the  clash  of  contending  weapons, 
the  cries  of  suffering,  and  the  roar  of  cannon,  resound 
within  our  ears. 

Though  Lucca,  however,  appeals  not  by  its  history 
to  our  sympathies  in  any  particular  degree,  either 
through  the  greatness  of  its  power  or  the  genius  of 
its  sons,  it  yet  possesses  a  claim  to  our  respectful 
consideration  from  the  high  position  it  occupied 
among  the  numerous  republican  towns  of  Tuscany. 
Here  was  silk  first  produced  and  manufactured  in 
Italy — a  circumstance  which  contributed  materially 
for  many  years  to  the  prosperity  of  the  town ;  and 
from  the  energy  and  enterprise  that  characterized  its 
citizens  in  all  matters  that  related  to  commerce  and 
trade,  the  epithet  of  "the  Industrious"  was  attached 
to  its  name.  Even  under  the  Lombard  Kings  of 
Italy,  whose  power  was  subverted  by  the  Franks  in 
the  eighth  century,  Lucca  had  risen  to  be  a  place  of 


44  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

considerable  importance ;  so  much  so  that  it  became 
the  capital  and  seat  of  government  of  princes  of  its 
own,  who,  under  the  title  of  Duke,  exercised  sover 
eign  sway  over  the  whole  of  Tuscany.  The  twelfth 
century  found  Lucca  a  free  town,  whose  existence 
was  as  much  disturbed  by  dissensions  and  feuds 
amongst  its  citizens  as  was  that  of  any  other  repub 
lican  city  of  Tuscany. 

Hotly  and  eagerly,  as  in  Florence,  did  the  Guelph 
and  Ghibeline  factions  engage  in  conflict  within  its 
walls;  and  it  was  whilst  these  were  battling  together 
in  the  streets  that,  in  the  fourteenth  century,  the 
Pisans  entered,  and  took  possession  of  the  town. 
Throwing  oif  the  yoke  of  Pisa,  after  various  vicis 
situdes  through  which  it  passed,  from  the  grasp  of 
a  domestic  tyrant  into  the  possession  of  a  Bohemian 
King,  Lucca  was  only  saved  from  being  subjected 
to  Florentine  rule  by  once  more  falling  into  the 
possession  of  the  Pisans,  who  defeated  the  rival  re 
publicans  in  a  mighty  battle  which  was  fought  in 
contention  for  the  prize  under  the  very  walls  of 
Lucca.  To  the  Pisan  supremacy  succeeded  that  of 
Charles  IY,  and  from  that  monarch  the  Lucchese 
purchased  their  freedom  at  an  enormous  price. 
Short,  however,  was  the  period  marked  by  the  en 
joyment  of  the  costly  boon,  for  before  thirty  years 
had  passed  away,  Lucca  lay  prostrate  at  the  feet  of 
Gian  Galeazzo,  the  tyrant  Duke  of  Milan.  Recov 
ering  their  liberty  once  more,  the  Lucchese  did  not 


LUCCA.  45 

recover  with  it  the  qualities  of  mind  which  in  for 
mer  times  had  rendered  them  worthy  to  exercise  the 
prerogatives  of  self-government ;  for  whilst  the  town 
still  bore  the  name  of  a  republic,  it  was  tyrannized 
over  by  a  narrow  oligarchy  of  its  citizens — an  oli 
garchy,  however,  which,  though  hated  by  the  peo 
ple,  maintained  its  sway  until  the  year  1800,  when 
the  French  took  possession  of  Tuscany  :  an  event 
which  was  followed  before  long  by  the  entrance  into 
Lucca  of  the  Princess  Elise,  sister  of  jSTapoleon  Bo 
naparte,  as  the  sovereign  of  the  town  and  adjoining 
territory.  In  the  same  month,  and  in  the  same 
year,  Genoa,  which  formed  with  Lucca  the  last  rem 
nants  of  the  ancient  republican  towns  of  Italy,  lost 
its  independence  also. 

But  if  Lucca  lost  its  independence,  it  did  not  lose 
its  dignity,  for  it  continued  to  be  the  capital  of  a 
State,  the  residence  of  a  court,  and  the  seat  of  gov 
ernment  during  the  rule  of  the  French  Princess,  and 
of  the  succeeding  house  of  Bourbon,  down  to  1847; 
when,  in  virtue  of  the  treaty  of  Vienna,  whereby 
the  Allied  Powers  assumed  to  themselves  the  right 
of  deciding  on  the  destinies  of  small,  powerless 
States,  Lucca  and  the  Lucchese  territory  passed  into 
the  possession  of  Leopold  II,  the  present  Grand 
Duke  of  Tuscany.  Behold  now  Lucca — its  liberty, 
its  independence  gone;  its  name  as  a  State  extin 
guished  ;  its  distinction  as  the  seat  of  government, 
as  the  residence  of  a  court,  at  an  end :  behold  it 


46  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

dejected,  grieving,  burning  secretly  with  indignation 
at  the  change,  with  the  spark  of  disaffection  and 
disloyalty  smouldering  in  its  breast,  ready  at  the 
first  favorable  moment  to  burst  out  into  a  formida 
ble  flame. 

Piety  and  wealth  combined  in  Lucca,  as  in  its 
neighboring  republican  cities,  to  raise  noble  and  nu 
merous  temples  to  the  Deity.  Some  of  these,  erected 
in  the  eighth  century,  serve  as  monuments  of  the 
existence  of  the  Lombard  kingdom,  by  offering  to 
view  the  characteristic  features  of  the  Lombard 
architectural  school.  The  cathedral,  a  handsome 
building,  dates  its  existence  from  the  eleventh  centu 
ry,  and  exhibits  a  facade  adorned  by  several  tiers  of 
arches  and  rich  inlaid  work  ;  the  latter  representing 
the  somewhat  inappropriate  subject  of  the  chase- 
huntsmen  equipped  with  lance  and  horn,  and  ac 
companied  by  dogs,  being  depicted  in  the  pursuit 
of  a  curious  medley  of  wild  animals,  consisting  of 
foxes,  wolves,  lions,  boars  and  deer.  The  interior 
of  the  cathedral,  compared  with  the  interiors  of  the 
cathedrals  of  Pisa  and  Florence,  is  somewhat  insig 
nificant  ;  for,  though  ornamented  with  fine  stained 
glass,  some  rich  Gothic  tracery,  and  a  ceiling  where 
frescoes  of  saints  show  forth,  on  a  ground  of  blue, 
it  does  not  at  all  make  up  by  such  decorations  for 
its  inferiority  to  the  Florentine  and  Pisan  cathedrals 
in  point  of  size.  One  distinction,  however,  the  ca 
thedral  of  Lucca  enjoys  over  that  of  Florence  or  of 


LUCCA.  47 

Pisa,  in  that  it  is  the  possessor  of  a  relic  which  was 
venerated  in  former  times  in  the  highest  degree 
throughout  all  Europe.  Richly  gilt  and  adorned  is 
the  small  chapel  that  contains  the  Volto  Santo  di 
Lucca* — a  crucifix  carved  in  cedar  wood  by  the 
hand,  it  is  alleged,  of  ^"icodemus,  and  miraculously 
transported  to  Lucca  in  the  eighth  century.  By  the 
u  Yolto  Santo  di  Lucca,"  under  its  Mediaeval  Latin 
name,  did  princes  and  nobles  swear  :  the  per  vultum 
de  Lucca  being  recorded  as  our  second  Gorman 
King's  most  favorite  oath,  of  the  many  with  which 
he  was  accustomed  to  garnish  his  discourse  and  to 
give  energy  to  his  words.  Yet,  although  this  relic 
has  lost  its  ancient  celebrity,  though  princes  and 
nobles  swear  by  it  no  more,  its  sacred  reputation  still 
in  this  day  prevails  so  far  as  to  cause  it  to  be 
shrouded  from  the  public  gaze ;  except  on  three 
great  occasions  of  the  year,  when  it  is  brought  forth 
for  adoration,  with  a  sparkling  jewel  on  its  breast, 
and  a  gilt  crown  upon  its  head.  Fortunately,  how 
ever,  for  the  passing  stranger,  who,  except  by  spe 
cial  permission  or  rare  good  chance,  cannot  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  sacred  work  of  art — a  declared  fac 
simile  of  the  image  is  always  exposed  to  view;  which, 
if  in  very  truth  it  be  what  it  is  professed,  gives  a 
most  unfavorable  idea  of  the  artistic  genius  of  i^ico- 
demus. 
Exclusive  of  the  cathedral,  there  are  eleven 

*  "  Holy  face  of  Lucca.*' 


48  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

churches  in  Lucca,  sufficiently  remarkable  in  some 
way  or  other  to  entitle  them  to  a  place  in  the  guide 
book  of  every  traveler.  San  Michele,  venerable  in 
years,  dating  its  existence  from  the  period  of  Lom 
bard  rule,  displays  on  the  summit  of  its  richly  deco 
rated  white  marble  front  a  colossal  figure  of  the 

o 

Archangel  in  whose  honor  the  stately  pile  was 
reared.  Some  fine  pictures  by  Fra  Bartolommeo 
give  interest  to  San  Romano;  and  San  Frcdiano, 
built  out  of  the  ruins  of  a  deserted  ampitheatre, 
commends  itself  to  Irish  sympathies,  from  its  having 
been  raised  in  honor,  as  well  as  bearing  the  name, 
of  the  highly  venerated  son  of  an  Irish  king.  In 
not  only  spiritual,  but  also  in  manual  works,  did 
the  Irish  saint  engage ;  for  within  this  church  an 
immense  slab  of  marble  may  be  seen,  which  was 
lifted  (as  an  inscription  testifies)  by  San  Frediano 
and  his  canons  from  the  quarry  where  it  was  dug, 
and  transferred  by  the  same  hands  to  the  car  des 
tined  to  draw  it  to  the  place  where  it  now  stands. 
Of  the  merits,  or  of  the  characteristics,  of  the 
seven  remaining  churches  of  Lucca,  it  is  not  for  me 
to  tell ;  since  sight-seeing  becoming  an  intolerable 
toil  under  the  influence  of  a  July  sun,  I  turned  away 
from  churches,  Lombard  or  Gothic,  or  Lombard 
and  Gothic  intermixed,  from  sculptures,  from  dim 
frescoes,  and  from  paintings  of  artists  of  more  or 
less  note,  and  bent  my  steps  towards  the  ramparts 
of  the  town,  to  take  a  look  at  the  works  of  the  great 


LUCCA.  49 

Artist,  whose  creations  combine  all  that  is  lovely 
and  sublime :  creations  before  which  those  of  the 
greatest  Italian  masters  fade  into  insignificance. 

The  Piazza  Ducale,  through  which  I  passed  on 
my  way  to  the  city  walls,  is  a  handsome,  spacious 
square,  adorned  with  rows  of  trees,  and  derives  its 
name  from  the  adjoining  Ducal  Palace,  before  whose 
unfrequented  gate  a  sentinel  was  pacing  apathetic 
ally  to  and  fro.  In  front  of  the  now  deserted  build 
ing  a  monument  stands,  raised  to  the  memory  of  a 
Duchess  of  Lucca,  to  whom  the  citizens  owed  the 
construction  of  a  splendid  acqueduct,  which  affords 
at  this  present  day  a  plentiful  supply  of  wTater  to  the 
inhabitants  of  the  town.  Square,  palace  or  monu 
ment,  however,  possess  but  little  power  to  arrest  the 
stranger's  steps  under  the  influence  of  a  July  noon 
day  sun,  and,  passing  onwards,  I  gained  in  a  few 
minutes  the  ramparts  of  the  town,  from  whence 
there  burst  upon  my  view  a  prospect  of  which  the 
Lucchese  have  reason  to  be  proud.  How  stronglj 
does  the  durability  of  nature  contrast  with  the  in 
stability  of  all  human  glories.  Fallen  now  as  Lucca 
is  from  its  ancient  republican  wrealth,  power  and 
dignity — blotted  out  as  now  it  is  from  the  list  of 
States,  and  degraded  into  the  rank  of  a  mere  pro 
vincial  town,  its  amphitheatre  of  hills  is  still  as  beau 
tiful,  arid  towers  up  as  grandly  in  the  air  as  when, 
in  centuries  long  gone  by,  the  churches  of  San  Fre- 
4 


50  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

diano  and  San  Michele  sprang  into  existence  under 
the  dominion  of  the  Lombards. 

Echoing  no  longer  with  the  clash  of  arms,  with 
warlike  shouts,  or  with  the  heavy  tread  of  men-at- 
arms,  the  ramparts  now  are  made  to  serve  far  dif 
ferent  uses  from  those  for  which  they  were  originally 
constructed  ;  for,  planted  with  trees,  which  overarch 
a  hroad  and  well-kept  walk,  they  now  afford  a  de 
lightful  promenade  to  the  Lucchese,  especially  in  the 
hot  summer  months.  Delicious  is  the  shade,  as, 
emerging  from  the  heat  and  glare  of  a  July  sun,  I 
stand  beneath  the  thick  canopy  of  leaves,  through 
which  but  two  or  three  intrusive  sunbeams  here  and 
there  can  force  their  way ;  and  peacefully  the  mur 
muring  sounds  from  the  quiet  town  fall  on  my  ear, 
as,  in  a  solitude*  unbroken  by  the  sight  of  any 
living  creature,  I  slowly  stroll  along  this  enduring 
monument  of  a  sanguinary  age,  wrhere  human  blood 
was  shed  like  water  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  ambi 
tion,  the  desire  for  plunder,  or  the  thirst  for  ven 
geance. 

Very  beautiful  is  the  view,  on  which  from  time  to 
time  I  pause  to  gaze.  A  soft  purple  haze  rests  on 
the  chain  of  hills,  that  like  a  natural  rampart  en 
circles  the  rich  vale  in  which  Lucca  stands.  Here 
a  declivity  high  and  bare,  there  a  verdant  slope,  ar- 

"Italians  say  that  no  living  creatures,  save  mad  dogs  and  English 
people,  will  voluntarily  stir  out  of  doors  during  the  heat  of  the  day  in 
summer. 


LUCCA.  51 

rests  the  eye,  whilst  everywhere  the  graceful  vary 
ing  outlines  of  the  hills  are  seen  to  stand  out  in  hold 
relief  against  the  deep  azure  of  the  sky,  and  the 
rich  plain  glows  and  sparkles  in  the  bright  sun 
shine.  From  the  walls  of  Lucca  to  the  Pisan  hills 
upon  one  side,  or  on  the  other  to  the  more  distant 
Appenines,  a  sea  of  verdure  stretches  out,  thickly 
dotted  over  with  villages  and  the  dwellings  of  the 
peasantry.  Vines,  festooned  from  tree  to  tree,  en 
circle  fields  in  which  the  Indian  maize  has  taken 
the  place  of  the  tall,  waving,  golden  wheat,  harvest 
ed  more  than  a  month  ago.  Art  combines  with 
nature  to  adorn  the  scene,  from  the  rich  green  of 
the  irrigated  meadows  to  the  lofty  arches  of  the 
magnificent  acqueduct,  which,  spanning  a  large  por 
tion  of  the  plain,  advances  in  close  vicinity  to  the 
city  walls. 

But  when  the  churches  and  the  view  from  the 
ramparts  have  been  seen,  the  stranger,  who  chances 
to  visit  Lucca  during  the  months  of  July  or  August, 
hurries  away  impatiently  from  the  town;  for  the 
heat  is  oppressively  intense,  in  the  full  glare  of  the 
sun,  and  even  in  the  shade  there  prevails  a  stove- 
like  temperature.  At  this  season  of  the  year  no 
Lucchese  noble,  or  plebeian  with  independent 
means,  continues  in  the  town.  Some  go  to  ruralize 
in  country  villas  for  a  while ;  others,  destitute  of 
such  possessions,  repair  to  Leghorn  or  to  Viareggio 
for  sea  bathing,  or  to  Monte  Catini  for  health  or 


52  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

recreation ;  but,  singularly  enough,  very  few  fre 
quent  the  baths  to  which  Lucca  gives  the  distinct 
ive  name,  although  distant  but  fifteen  miles,  and 
possessing  in  point  of  coolness  and  beauty  an  im 
measurable  superiority  over  every  other  summer 
retreat  in  Tuscany. 

But  if  the  Lucchese  are  indifferent  to  the  charms 
of  the  Baths  of  Lucca,  the  foreigners  belonging  to 
that  fair-complexioned  race  denominated  "Inglesc" 
who  have  taken  up  their  temporary  or  permanent 
abode  in  Tuscany,  show  a  thorough  appreciation 
of  the  advantages  and  attractions  of  the  place.  As 
soon  as  the  hot  weather  begins,  carriages,  laden 
outside  with  luggage,  and  filled  inside  with  faces 
belonging  unmistakably  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  race, 
may  be  seen,  day  after  day,  traveling  along  the  road 
that  leads  from  Florence  to  these  Baths ;  and  so 
many  of  these  vehicles  passed  before  my  view  at 
Monte  Catini  in  the  month  of  June,  that  the  dusty 
highway,  on  which  my  sitting  room  windows  looked, 
assumed  the  aspect,  in  a  great  degree,  of  an  English 
thoroughfare.  Fully  prepared,  therefore,  as  far  as 
society  was  concerned,  to  find  myself  in  a  miniature 
England,  I  leave  the  broiling  town  of  Lucca,  in  com 
pany  with  a  friend,  to  spend  the  autumn  months 
amidst  the  shade  of  chestnut-covered  hills,  in  the 
most  beautiful  valley  of  Tuscany. 

Almost  from  the  very  gate  of  Lucca  through 
which  we  pass,  the  road  to  the  Baths  is  distinguished 


THE   BATHS   OF   LUCCA.  53 

by  a  considerable  degree  of  beauty.  Following  the 
course  of  the  Serchio,  (a  very  ill-conducted  river, 
whose  propensity  for  overflowing  can  with  the  great 
est  difficulty  be  restrained,)  we  travel  along  a  road, 
bordered  on  both  sides  with  festooned  vines,  towards 
the  rich  valley  through  which  the  Serchio  winds. 
The  closer  we  approach  the  hills,  which  on  the  north 
side  bound  the  luxuriant  plain,  the  more  attractive 
becomes  the  scenery.  At  a  distance  of  little  more 
than  three  miles  from  the  town,  stands  Marlia,  a 
summer  palace  of  the  Duke  ;  and  in  its  vicinity  may 
be  seen  many  handsome  villas,  which,  though  the 
property  of  Lucchese  nobles,  are,  for  the  considera 
tion  of  a  reasonable  amount  of  scudi,  quite  at  the 
service  of  such  persons  as  may  desire  to  have  them 
as  their  summer  residences :  a  condescension  of  an 
extremely  sensible  nature  on  the  part  of  the  pro 
prietors,  if,  as  it  is  alleged,  the  hills  keep  off  every 
cooling  breeze,  and  hosts  of  musquitoes  indulge 
without  pity  or  remorse  their  sanguinary  appetites. 
i\"ot  far  from  Marlia,  the  Serchio  is  crossed  by  a 
sandstone  bridge,  erected  in  1832  to  replace  its  pre 
decessor,  which  was  carried  away  by  one  of  the 
rebellious  outbreaks  of  the  river  thirteen  years  be 
fore.  As  a  protection,  probably,  against  the  recur 
rence  of  such  a  catastrophe,  the  present  structure, 
Ponte  a  Muriano,  as  it  is  called,  is  adorned  with 
statues  of  saints  of  colossal  size,  which  we  hope  will 


54  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

have  the  good  effect  of  keeping  the  turbulent  Ser- 
chio  henceforth  in  order. 

From  Muriano  to  the  Baths,  the  roa,d,  still  con 
tinuing  faithful  to  the  left  bank  of  the  Serchio, 
gradually  ascends  through  a  fine  valley  bounded  by 
lofty  hills,  on  whose  declivities,  midst  olives,  vines 
and  chestnut  trees,  a  succession  of  picturesque  vil 
lages  appear.  On  the  summit  of  a  lofty  eminence 
is  seen  the  Convento  degli  Angeli  (Convent  of  the 
Angels),  founded  by  the  Queen  of  Etruria,  in  1815  ; 
but  in  accordance  with  the  name,  which  harmonizes 
well  with  the  aerial  situation  of  the  structure,  it 
must  be  a  subject  of  regret  to  those  of  its  inhabitants 
who  may  have  to  pant  and  toil  up  the  steep  ascent, 
on  their  return  from  spiritual  missions  in  the  world 
below,  that  the  angelic  mode  of  locomotion,  by 
means  of  wings,  has  not  been  conferred  on  them. 

Hills,  mountains,  river,  chestnuts,  olives,  vines, 
villages,  farm  houses,  villas,  continue  to  meet  the 
view  as  we  proceed;  but,  like  objects  seen  in  a 
kaleidoscope,  to  which  the  slightest  motion  gives 
variety  of  aspect,  each  advancing  step  we  take, 
though  the  features  of  the  scene  remain  the  same, 
presents  them  in  some  fresh  and  ever  beautiful  com 
bination.  Villages  bearing  the  old  Roman  names, 
which  mark  their  distance  from  the  Lucchese  me 
tropolis,  in  quick  succession  we  pass  by,  and  near 
the  furthest  one  of  these  we  see  the  place  where 
stood,  not  many  years  ago,  a  bridge  which  the  Ser- 


.     THE   BATHS    OF   LUCCA.  55 

cliio  in  one  of  its  fierce  bursts  of  passion,  entirely 
swept  away.  The  little  town  of  Borgo,  the  empo 
rium  of  the  mountain  commerce  in  silk,  hemp  and 
wool,  comes  soon  into  view,  and  close  to  it  is  seen 
an  ancient  and  extremely  singular  looking  bridge, 
to  which,  though  rightfully  bearing  the  name  of 
Ponte  dclla  Maddalena,  the  appellation  of  Ponte  del 
Diavolo  (Devil's  Bridge),  has  been  popularly  assigned. 
!N"ot  wholly  undeserved,  indeed,  is  the  ill-omened 
name  by  which  this  structure  is  almost  invariably 
called,  since,  to  the  superstitious  eye,  it  well  might 
seem  to  owe  its  existence  to  some  impish  freak ;  for, 
constructed  in  utter  opposition  to  ordinary  rule,  its 
central  arch  is  raised  to  such  a  height  above  the  other 
four  that,  at  its  summit,  the  narrow  causeway  forms 
an  angle  too  acute  to  admit  of  any  carriage  crossing 
it.  Thanks  to  the  great  altitude,  however,  as  well 
as  to  the  wide  span  of  the  centre  arch,  the  Ponte  del 
Diavolo  has  borne  repeated  bursts  of  the  fitful  fury 
of  the  Serchio  for  centuries,  unscathed. 

Shortly  after  passing  Ponte  del  Diavolo,  the  Ser 
chio,  just  previous  to  turning  off  into  another  valley, 
is  joined  by  the  Lima,  a  tributary  mountain  stream, 
by  whose  side  we  journey  onward.  In  spite,  how 
ever,  of  the  very  mild  and  inoffensive  aspect  of  our 
new  friend,  which  murmurs  on  musically  over  its 
rocky  bed,  it  would  seem  to  partake  of  the  Serchio's 
turbulent  character,  for  on  its  banks  rise  up  the 
towers  of  an  unfinished  suspension  bridge,  intended 


56  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

to  replace  a  bridge  of  stone  which  fell  a  victim  to 
the  river's  violence  in  1836.  Still  traveling  by  the 
Lima,  along  a  road  overhung  by  chestnut  trees,  and 
bordered  on  one  side  by  vines,  the  first  houses  of 
Ponte  a  Seraglio,  the  metropolis  of  the  bathing  dis 
trict,  soon  appears.  On  the  very  outskirts  of  the 
village  rises  up  La  Maison  de  la  Grande  Betracjne,  as 
if  to  arrest  the  onward  movement  of  the  British 
traveler  by  an  appeal  to  his  patriotic  feelings.  A 
few  steps  further  on,  the  Albcrgo  di  Londra  advances 
a  similar  claim  on  the  cockney's  sympathies ;  and 
within  a  few  yards'  distance  "Pagnini's  Hotel," 
written  in  gigantic  characters  on  the  front  of  a  large 
house  directly  opposite  "  Cordon's  Store,"  confirms 
the  English  character  of  the  locality.  Dashing 
along  at  the  Italian's  favorite  frantic  pace,  through 
two  short  narrow  streets,  we  reach  the  bridge  which 
gives  the  distinctive  name  of  Ponte  a  Seraglio  to 
the  small  cluster  of  houses  that  extend  for  a  short 
distance  on  either  bank  of  the  river. 

But,  the  bridge  being  gained,  our  progress  was 
arrested  by  a  military  band,  that  occupied  (at  the 
further  side  of  the  stream)  a  small  piazza  through 
which  we  desired  to  pass.  Except  for  tired  travel 
lers,  the  delay  would  have  been  an  agreeable  one, 
for  the  scene  had  many  features  which  could  scarce 
ly  fail  to  be  attractive  to  the  stranger's  eye.  To 
the  right  and  left,  the  view  is  closed  in  by  wooded 
heights,  at  whose  feet  the  river  runs  in  a  narrow 


THE    BATHS    OF   LUCCA.  57 

winding  valley ;  and  high  above  the  village  rise  up 
precipitous  hills,  clothed  with  the  bright  green 
foliage  of  the  chestnut,  amidst  which  here  and  there 
white  gleaming  villas  are  seen.  Nearer,  the  view 
presents  the  animated  scene  which  life  in  a  fashion 
able  bathing-place  always  offers  in  the  frequented 
season  of  the  year.  Around  the  band,  whose  mem 
bers  seem  to  do  their  best  to  display  the  full  powers 
of  their  instruments,  is  assembled  a  gay  and  motley 
company.  Before  the  doors  of  three  cafes  of  which 
the  small  piazza  boasts,  are  ranged  a  number  of 
small  tables,  where  lovers  of  music  and  ice  creams 
sit  and  indulge  at  the  same  time  in  their  two  favor 
ite  luxuries.  Young  ladies  with  large  straw  hats, 
brown,  gray  or  white,  underneath  which  are  seen 
true  English  faces,  exchange  greetings  with  young 
gentlemen  in  linen  coats,  who,  in  spite  of  a  carefully 
cultivated  moustache  or  beard  in  the  Italian  style, 
look  as  much  true-born  Britons  in  aspect  as  they 
are  in  language.  Here  and  there  a  sallow-faced 
Frenchman,  or  a  fashionable-looking  Frenchwoman, 
may  be  seen,  and  occasionally,  too,  a  dark-eyed 
Italian  is  visible  ;  but  the  great  bulk  of  the  compa 
ny,  if  not  exactly  English,  (for  Americans  abound,) 
is  composed  of  persons  of  at  least  English  origin. 
On  every  side  the  rougher  tones  of  our  island  tongue 
overpower  the  soft  musical  language  of  Tuscany ;  to 
have  closed  my  eyes  on  chestnut  woods,  on  the 
cloudless  sky,  on  houses  unmarked  by  stain  or  mil- 


58  LIFE   IX   TUSCANY. 

dew,  on  signboards  with  Italian  inscriptions,  on  a 
group  of  vetturini  lounging  on  the  bridge,  and  to 
have  judged  by  sounds  alone,  I  should  have  pro 
nounced  ni}Tself  in  England. 

First  in  importance,  as  well  as  in  magnitude,  of 
the  three  villages  which  are  comprehended  under 
the  name  of  the  Baths  of  Lucca,  Ponte  a  Seraglio 
enjoys  the  distinction  of  being  the  head-quarters  of 
the  gay  world  of  fashion.  Here  is  the  post-office, 
and  here  also  the  Casino,  a  handsome  building  de 
voted  to  purposes  of  amusement,  where  nightly 
assemblies  are  held  during  the  fashionable  season, 
in  a  large  room  ornamented  with  mirrors  and  gild 
ing.  Here,  under  the  auspices  of  royalty,  balls  take 
place  pretty  frequently  at  stated  intervals  ;  but  the 
enjoyment  of  dancing  is  by  no  means  confined  to 
such  periods,  for  a  piano  which  the  room  contains 
is  constantly  made  to  do  duty  for  the  orchestra,  to 
whose  music  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  go  through 
their  varied  evolutions  on  state  ball  evenings,  when 
the  Grand  Duke  and  Grand  Dnchess,  and  the  young 
Archdukes,  deign  to  honor  the  company  with  their 
presence.  Adjoining  the  ball-room  is  another  large 
apartment,  where  the  natives  of  England,  Germany, 
France  and  Italy,  can  read  the  varied  news  of  the 
day,  each  in  his  native  language.  The  Casino  also 
contains  a  billiard-table  for  such  as  are  partial  to 
that  species  of  recreation ;  but  no  gaming-table  is 
seen  :  for  by  a  very  praiseworthy  edict  of  the  late 


THE   BATHS    OF   LUCCA.  59 

Duke  of  Lucca,  in  1846,  gambling,  once  the  oppro 
brium  of  the  Baths,  was  strictly  prohibited. 

The  Bagno  alia  Villa,  the  second  village  of  the 
Baths  in  point  of  size,  consists  of  two  straggling 
lines  of  houses,  which  form  an  irregular  street  run 
ning  along  the  base  of  a  steep  hill  that  forms  one 
side  of  a  narrow  valley  through  which  the  Lima 
flows.  Distant  about  a  mile  from  the  Ponte,  with 
which  it  communicates  by  a  shady  road,  the  scenery 
of  the  Villa  resembles  much  the  first-mentioned  vil 
lage  in  general  features,  though  somewhat  more 
confined  in  character.  At  both,  the  view  is  closed 
in  on  every  side  by  lofty  chestnut-covered  hills,  at 
whose  feet  a  river  flows,  the  brawling  voice  of  which 
is  heard  both  night  and  day  resounding  in  the  air. 
While  the  houses  of  the  Ponte,  for  the  most  part, 
however,  overhang  the  stream,  those  of  the  Villa, 
retreating  a  short  distance  from  its  banks,  interpose 
small  gardens  between.  Essentially  different  in  its 
general  aspect,  the  Ponte  wears  a  gay,  flaunting, 
dissipated  look ;  while  the  Villa*  has  an  extremely 
quiet,  retiring  aspect,  as  if  it  shunned  the  pomp  and 
flutter  of  the  gay  world.  Here,  indeed,  come  quiet 
families,  serious  families,  strict  in  the  performance 
of  their  religious  duties,  and  families  to  whom  the 
vicinity  of  the  English  church  is  far  more  attractive 
than  that  of  the  Casino.  Gaiety,  indeed,  evidently 

*  In  former  times,  the  character  of  the  Villa  raay  have  been  some 
what  different,  as  the  Duke  of  Lucca  had  his  residence  in  this  locality. 


60  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

cannot  be  made  to  flourish  at  the  Villa,  any  more 
than  roses  in  a  sandy  desert ;  for  a  pretty-looking 
structure,  bearing  the  inscription  of  "  Teatro  "  (The 
atre)  over  the  door,  is  silent  and  deserted,  except 
when  the  Grand  Duke's  band,  retiring  there  on 
practicing  days,  awakens  its  dormant  echoes.  Nor, 
though  it  be  the  head-quarters  of  the  musical  corps, 
is  the  quiet,  serious  character  of  the  Villa  destroyed 
by  public  performances  ;  for  while  the  Pontc  a  Se 
raglio  has  its  band  days,  and  the  Bagni  Caldi,  the 
third  number  of  the  family  group,  is  distinguished 
in  a  similar  manner,  no  rakish  waltz  or  dissipated 
polka  ever  disturbs  the  philosophic  or  religious 
meditations  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Villa.  Music, 
indeed,  is  frequently  wafted  on  the  air  to  the  recesses 
of  the  dwellings,  but  music  it  is  that  could  never  be 
guilty  of  disturbing  the  mental  equilibrium,  by  an 
undue  vivacity  of  character ;  as  any  one  could  tes 
tify  who,  like  me,  had  lived  for  a  month  within 
earshot  of  a  guardhouse,  where  an  indefatigable 
player  on  the  trombone  daily  exhaled  the  sorrows  of 
his  soul  in  a  series  of  the  most  dismal  and  unearthly 
tones  imaginable. 

The  Bagni  Caldi,*  the  third,  and  by  much  the 
smallest  village  of  the  group,  has  its  comparative 
inferiority  in  point  of  size  atoned  for  by  the  distinc 
tion  it  enjoys  of  containing  the  residence  of  the 
Grand  Duke.  Placed  about  half-way  up  the  pre- 

*  Hot  baths. 


THE    BATHS    OP   LUCCA.  61 

cipitous  hill,  at  the  base  of  which  the  principal 
portion  of  the  Ponte  extends,  the  Bagni  Caldi 
affords  its  inhabitants  the  advantages  of  an  exten 
sive  view  and  a  bracing  air.  Still,  such  advantages 
must  be  considered  to  be  dearly  purchased  by  per 
sons  who  have  not,  like  the  Grand  Duke,  carriages 
and  horses  constantly  at  their  disposal ;  for  the  ap 
proach  to  this  exalted  post  is  by  a  road  which,  not 
withstanding  its  serpentine  course  as  it  winds 
upwards  on  its  way,  taxes  the  breath  and  energies 
to  a  very  considerable  degree,  especially  on  a  hot 
summer  day.  On  this  account,  probably,  it  happens 
that,  while  the  Ponte  and  the  Villa  each  possess 
numerous  large  and  flourishing-looking  hotels,  the 
Bagni  Caldi  cannot  exhibit  one ;  in  spite  of  the  at 
traction  of  its  fine  Bath  House,  where  nature,  acting 
the  benevolent  apothecary's  part,  serves  up  a  steam 
ing  compound  of  sulphur,  iron,  lime  and  magnesia, 
free  of  cost  —  a  liberality  which  the  dispensers  of 
the  medicated  waters  do  not  emulate. 

Notwithstanding  that  the  village  of  the  Bagni 
Caldi  wTould  seem  from  its  name  to  arrogate  to  itself 
some  peculiar  distinction  on  the  score  of  the  temper 
ature  of  its  springs,  these  latter  possess  the  prop 
erty  of  heat  in  common  with  four  other  sources, 
which  are  equally  employed  for  baths.  The  springs 
of  the  Bagni  Caldi,  however,  have  a  higher  temper 
ature  than  any  of  the  rest,  for  whilst  the  warmest 
of  these  latter  only  reach  to  112  degrees  of  Fahren- 


62  LIFE   IN    TUSCANY. 

lieit,  the  former  rises  to  136.  The  waters  of  one  of 
the  springs  are  used  internally,  and  are  sent  to  va 
rious  parts  of  Italy,  it  is  said  authoritatively ;  but  if 
such  is  the  case,  their  reputation,  as  regards  drink 
ing  purposes,  judging  from  my  own  observation, 
must  be  infinitely  greater  abroad  than  it  is  at  home  ; 
for  I  never  saw  a  draught  of  mineral  water  taken 
by  any  one  during  my  two  months'  residence  at  the 
Baths. 

Numerous  as  were  the  English  families  staying  at 
the  Baths  of  Lucca  in  the  summer  of  1856,  on  every 
side,  yet  from  every  quarter,  from  hotel  and  lodging- 
house  keepers  down  to  the  purveyors  of  horses  and 
donkeys,  I  heard  many  lamentations  of  the  paucity 
of  the  number  of  Inylesc.  There  was  every  reason, 
indeed,  to  believe  that,  in  comparison  with  the  ad 
vent  of  the  English  in  former  years,  the  complaint 
uttered  so  generally  in  regard  to  their  scanty  num 
bers,  was  correct ;  for  in  the  very  height  of  the  fash 
ionable  season,  I  saw  many  lodging-houses  quite 
shut  up,  and  in  others,  suits  of  apartments  remained 
unlet.  From  what  I  heard  and  saw,  the  Baths  of 
Lucca  seemed  evidently  to  be  waning  in  prosperity, 
so  far  at  least  as  the  foreign  element  is  concerned,  that 
has  ministered  for  many  years  so  very  largely  to  its 
wealth  ;  for  fashion,  influenced  by  increased  facili 
ties  of  traveling,  induces  its  English  subjects  resi 
dent  in  Italy  to  pass  the  hot  months  of  the  year  by 
the  shores  of  the  lovely  lakes  of  Switzerland.  Still, 


THE    BATHS    OF   LUCCA.  63 

however  much,  the  flow  of  the  annual  tide  of  Eng 
lish  to  the  Baths  of  Lucca  may  diminish  in  amount, 
the  English  element  of  population  will  probably 
never  fail  to  show  itself  pretty  conspicuously  in  the 
place.  For,  whatever  aspirations  may  exist  after  a 
summer  abode  by  the  lakes  of  Leman  and  Lucerne, 
these  aspirations  can  only  be  indulged  in,  where  a 
large  family  is  concerned,  through  the  medium  of  a 
well-filled  purse  ;  which  is  not  at  the  command  of 
that  numerous  class  of  English  residents  in  Tus 
cany,  who  from  economical  considerations  have 
become  exiles  from  their  native  land.  So  Miss 
Henrietta,  however  she  may  long  to  wander  amongst 
Alpine  heights,  and  fill  her  sketch-book  with  views 
of  snow-crowned  mountains  and  chalet-dotted  val 
leys,  must  perforce  content  herself  with  a  summer 
residence  by  the  Lima's  side,  and  limit  her  artistic 
powers  to  the  Devil's  Bridge,  or  villages  with  red- 
tiled  roofs,  wooded  heights,  old  church  towers,  and 
hordes  of  ragged  beggars,  whilst  young  Mr.  George, 
the  proprietor  of  a  carefully  cultivated  and  promis 
ing  infantine  moustache,  who  pants  for  the  glory  of 
climbing  up  Mont  Blanc,  encountering  bears,  or 
hunting  chamois,  must  resign  himself  to  the  tamer 
pleasures  which  the  Casino  of  the  Ponte  a  Seraglio 
offers,  of  billiard-playing  and  newspaper  reading  in 
the  morning,  dancing,  music  and  flirtation  in  the 
evening. 

Truly,  however,  those  English   residents  in  Flo- 


64  LIFE    IN    TUSCANY. 

reuce  are  little  to  be  pitied,  whom  scanty  means 
precludes  from  seeking  a  more  distant  place  of  sum 
mer  recreation  than  the  Baths  of  Lucca.  Although 
compared  with  Alpine  scenery,  that  of  the  Appe- 
nines  is  tame,  the  taste  must  he  fastidious  indeed, 
that  would  not  derive  a  high  degree  of  gratification 
from  the  sight  of  the  winding  valleys,  hemmed  in 
with  lofty  and  magnificently  wooded  hills,  with 
which  the  neighborhood  of  this  beautiful  Tuscan 
watering-place  abounds.  To  such  persons  as  are 
fond  of  riding,  and  can  attain  to  a  philosophical  in 
difference  in  regard  to  roads  —  who  will  not  recoil 
from  scrambling  up  on  horseback  to  peasant  villages 
perched  eagle-like  on  the  summits  of  high  declivi 
ties,  by  highways  that  resemble  nothing  so  much  as 
the  dried-up  rocky  beds  of  mountain  streams,  a 
great  variety  of  grand  as  well  as  very  beautiful 
views  may  be  obtained.  From  the  village  of  Lu- 
gliano  especially,  a  village  crowning  the  hill  at  the 
foot  of  which  the  white  houses  of  a  considerable 
portion  of  Ponte  a  Seraglio  rise,  a  very  splendid 
prospect  is  seen,  of  glens  and  valleys,  of  winding 
rivers  and  wooded  hills,  whose  undulating  outlines 
stand  out  in  strong  relief  against  the  deep  blue  sky, 
of  villages  clinging  to  the  sides  or  crowning  the 
summits  of  bold  declivities,  over  which  tower  up  in 
grim  and  solemn  grandeur  the  naked,  barren  crags, 
herbless,  leafless  and  lifeless,  of  the  lofty  Appenines. 
Small  as  is  the  quantity  of  arable  land  amongst 


THE  BATHS   OF  LUCCA.  65 

these  hills  and  glens,  the  unlabored  earth  yet  affords 
subsistence  to  a  population  almost  as  dense  as  that 
which  exists  in  the  rich  plains  of  Tuscany,  judging 
from  the  number  of  villages  that  meet  the  view. 
Many  are  the  compensating  gifts  of  nature ;  and 
here,  where  the  steepness  of  the  hills  offers  an  almost 
insurmountable  obstacle  to  the  cultivation  of  grain, 
a  bountiful  Providence  has  clothed  their  precipitous 
sides  and  lofty  summits  with  a  tree,  which,  while  it 
beautifies  their  aspect,  yields  to  the  inhabitants  of 
the  district  an  abundance  of  nutritious  food.  "What 
the  potato  was  to  the  Irish  peasant  a  few  years  ago, 
the  chestnut  is  to  the  dwellers  amidst  these  hills  at 
this  present  day ;  and,  like  the  former  article  of 
food,  should  the  latter  be  annihilated  by  some  fell 
disease,  the  dread  Irish  tragedy  of  1846  would  be 
re-enacted  on  a  smaller  scale  amidst  these  Appenine 
glens.  Stripes  of  Indian  corn  and  patches  of  French 
beans  may  be  seen,  indeed,  extending  along  the  level 
ground  of  the  narrow  valleys,  or  growing  on  the 
summits  of  the  hills,  around  the  peasant  villages,  in 
small  garden  plots,  but  the  combined  produce  of 
these  crops,  even  in  the  most  favorable  season,  would 
scarcely  afford  subsistence  to  the  dense  population 
of  those  districts  for  more  than  a  few  days. 

The  chestnut  harvest  takes  place  for  the  most  part 

towards  the  end  of  October;  but  there  are  trees, 

however,  of  an  early  kind,  which  commence  to  shed 

their  fruit  some  weeks  before.     Eagerly  does  the 

5 


66  LIFE    IN   TUSCANY. 

peasant  watch  the  skies  in  September,  for  on  the 
character  of  the  weather  in  that  month  do  his  hopes 
of  an  abundant  harvest  in  a  great  degree  depend. 
Rain  and  sunshine  following  each  other  in  quick 
succession,  form  the  kind  of  weather  that  is  consid 
ered  to  exercise  the  most  favorable  influence  on  the 
crop  ;  for,  without  rain,  the  chestnuts  will  not  swell, 
and  without  sunshine  they  will  not  ripen  as  they 
ought.  In  general,  indeed,  September  does  not  dis 
appoint  the  peasant's  wishes  in  these  respects ;  yet 
sometimes  it  proves  his  enemy,  by  bringing  him  the 
Libcccio,  the  dreaded  southwest  wind,  laden  with 
salt,  under  w^hose  influence  the  chestnuts  turn  quite 
black,  and  drop.  At  such  a  period,  general  conster 
nation  prevails,  Heaven  is  besieged  with  prayers  to 
withdraw  the  blighting  blast,  and  the  peasant  kneels 
at  the  shrine  of  the  Madonna,  and  with  more  than 
his  wonted  fervor  invokes  her  aid. 

The  proprietorship  of  a  patch  of  chestnut  forest 
is  a  dignity  much  longed  for  by  the  peasant  inhab 
itants  of  these  hills.  Few  of  them,  however,  com 
paratively  speaking,  attain  to  the  position  of  pro 
prietors;  the  chestnut  woods  belonging,  for  the  most 
part,  to  members  of  a  higher  class,  Avho  let  them  to 
poor  laboring  people,  on  the  terms  so  generally 
prevalent  in  Tuscany,  of  receiving  half  the  produce 
in  the  way  of  rent. 

Although  chestnuts,  both  boiled  and  roasted,  are 
extensively  eaten  by  these  mountaineers,  the  princi- 


THE  BATHS   OF   LUCCA.  67 

pal  portion  of  the  fruit  is  ground  like  grain ;  and 
from  the  flour  thus  obtained,  a  kind  of  porridge 
called  pollenta,  and  a  cake,  termed  indifferently 
neccio9  migliaccio  or  castagnacio,  is  made,  which  forms 
the  principal  diet  of  the  people  throughout  the  year. 
This  cake,  (neccio,  as  it  is  generally  called  by  the 
Lucchese),  is  sweet  and  pleasant  to  the  taste;  but 
although  considered  to  be  exceedingly  nutritious, 
its  dyspeptic  tendencies  are  very  great,  except  as 
regards  such  persons  as  have  from  infancy  been  ac 
customed  to  its  use.  The  manufacture  of  this  neccio 
requires  but  little  time  or  skill.  Mixed  with  water, 
the  farina  dolce  *  (as  the  chestnut  flour  is  termed) 
forms  a  dough,  which,  when  kneaded  into  a  cake 
about  two  inches  thick,  is  laid  sandwich  fashion  be 
tween  two  small  circular  flat  stones,  on  the  inner 
side  of  which  dried  chestnut  leaves  are  spread. 
Into  the  centre  of  a  fire — formed  probably  of  the 
wood  of  the  chestnut  tree — these  two  flat  stones, 
with  the  intervening  dough,  are  placed,  and  through 
the  medium  of  this  primitive  stove,  a  cake  is  speed 
ily  produced ;  soft,  dark  in  color,  and  sweet  to  the 
taste.  In  preparation  for  the  manufacture  of  this 
neccio,  large  quantities  of  the  leaves  of  the  chestnut 
tree  are  collected  in  the  month  of  September,  strung 
all  close  together  on  a  cord,  and  then  hung  up  out 
side  the  house  to  dry.  At  the  end  of  September, 

*  Sweet  flour. 


68  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

scarcely  a  peasant's  house  is  to  be  seen,  that  has 
not  one  or  more  pendent  rows  of  chestnut  leaves 
garnishing  its  front.  Other  preparations  for  winter 
meals  are  seen  also  at  this  period  of  the  year. 
Underneath  the  shade  of  the  chestnut  trees  grow 
quantities  of  fungi,  which,  though  bearing  to  an 
English  eye  a  most  poisonous  aspect,  are  much  made 
use  of  by  the  peasantry,  when  fresh,  to  form  a  dish, 
when  dried,  to  flavor  their  ordinary  kinds  of  food. 
Insipid,  however,  as  these  fungi  are  in  point  of  taste, 
compared  to  the  English  mushroom,  and  indeed 
almost  destitute  as  they  are  of  savory  qualities,  they 
are  eagerly  sought  for  by  the  peasantry  in  the  au 
tumn  months,  when  they  appear  ;  and  though  some 
are  used  in  their  fresh  state,  the  most  part  are  pre 
served  for  winter  use,  by  being  cut  up  in  pieces  and 
laid  out  to  dry  in  baskets  placed  before  the  door. 

Abundant  as  is  the  harvest  which  the  chestnut 
generally  yields,  and  cheap  as  is  the  food  that  it 
affords,  a  very  considerable  number  of  the  popula 
tion  of  those  hills  are  annually  driven,  by  the  press 
ure  of  want,  to  seek  the  means  of  existence  else 
where.  When  the  autumn  months  set  in,  groups  of 
hardy  peasants  may  be  seen  wending  their  way  to 
Leghorn,  to  embark  for  Corsica  :  where  they  find 
employment  during  the  winter,  and  gain  sufficient 
money  to  support  their  families,  to  whom  they  re 
turn  in  the  latter  end  of  April  or  beginning  of  May. 
The  summer  past,  the  succeeding  autumn  witnesses 


THE  BATHS   OF   LUCCA.  69 

the  scene  of  the  preceding  season  renewed ;  and  so 
on  in  a  similar  manner  year  after  year. 

Strange  to  the  ears  of  the  Tuscan  peasants  are  the 
tales  of  Corsican  life  that  these  wanderers  hring 
home.  The  Lucchese  women,  who  are  accustomed 
from  their  childhood  to  the  hardest  toil,  working 
incessantly  from  morn  till  night,  daily  ascending 
precipitous  hills,  carrying  tremendous  loads  upon 
their  heads,  listen  with  wonder  when  their  fathers 
or  brothers  tell  how  the  Corsican  women,,  for  the 
most  part,  sit  squatted  in  listless  idleness  on  the 
ground;  and  with  no  less  surprise,  not  unmingled 
with  envy,  perhaps,  do  the  home-staying  young 
Giovannis  and  Guiseppes  hear  how  the  Corsican 
men,  scorning  all  kinds  of  drudging  work,  allow 
their  fields  to  remain  untilled,  and  their  spades  and 
hoes  to  spoil  with  rust,  whilst  shouldering  their  guns 
they  hie  off"  in  company  to  the  woods  to  shoot. 

E"ot  alone,  however,  does  Corsica  afford  a  field  of 
employment  to  these  poor  mountaineers;  scarcely 
a  year  passes  by  that  enterprising  youths  do  not 
leave  their  native  hills  to  seek  their  fortunes  in  Eng 
land  or  America,  by  following  for  the  most  part  the 
trade  of  modelers  of  plaster  figures.  Some  years 
ago  the  profession  was  a  good  one,  I  was  told  by 
one  of  these  vagrant  artists,  who  had  returned  home 
with  a  fortune  of  five  thousand  dollars  from  Amer 
ica.  "  I  used  often  to  make,"  he  said,  "  from  nine 
to  ten  dollars  a  day ;  but  now  the  business  is  over- 


70  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

stocked :  the  lads  of  the  present  day,  who  take  to 
the  same  way  of  earning  their  bread,  don't  make 
half  of  that  amount."  This  man  had  two  brothers, 
modelers  like  himself;  one  had,  like  him  also,  re 
turned  enriched  from  America,  the  other  had  mar 
ried  and  settled  in  England.  Few,  however,  of  these 
wandering  mountaineers  establish  themselves  in  a 
foreign  co'untry,  if  they  should  happen  to  have  se 
cured  by  their  exertions  a  sufficiency  of  means  to 
enable  them  to  live  with  the  least  degree  of  comfort 
in  their  native  land.  Little  attractive  to  the  stran 
ger's  eye  as  are  the  homes  of  the  peasantry  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Baths  of  Lucca,  the  natives  of 
these  hills  find  a  charm  in  their  dark,  dirty,  furni- 
tureless,  smoke-stained  interiors,  which  the  snug, 
clean,  comfortable  cottages  of  America  or  England 
do  not  in  their  ideas  possess.  "With  an  intense 
yearning  for  country  and  kindred,  the  wTandering 
modeler  generally  returns  to  spend  his  declining 
days  under  the  shade  of  those  chestnut  trees,  be 
neath  which  his  earliest  youth  was  passed.  But 
sufficient  as  are  for  him  the  pleasures  of  that  rough 
and  rude  existence  to  which  he  returns,  and  the 
shelter  of  the  roof  under  which  he  first  drew  breath 
— indifferent  as  he  is  to  unglazed  windows  and  dirt- 
stained  walls,  so  long  as  he  has  the  means  of  indem 
nifying  himself  for  years  of  toil  by  lounging  about 
with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth  in  listless  idleness,  far  dif- 


THE   BATHS    OF   LUCCA.  71 

ferent  is  it  with,  the  American  or  English  wife  whom 
he  brings  with  him  to  his  native  land. 

"  Poor  creatures !  it  is  a  terrible  life  for  such  as 
them,"  said  an  Italian  woman,  speaking  on  the  sub 
ject,  to  me.  "  I  knew  two ;  one  died  of  a  broken 
heart,  the  other,  at  the  end  of  two  months,  left  her 
husband,  and  went  into  service  in  an  English  family. 
Poor  things,  it  wasn't  to  be  wondered  at,  certainly. 
They  had  never  been  accustomed,  like  our  peasant 
women,  from  their  youth  to  climb  up  steep  mountain 
tracks,  or  to  live  upon  chestnut  or  maize.  Little 
did  they  think,  when  they  heard  of  the  blue  skies 
of  Italy,  of  the  kind  of  hard  and  comfortless  life 
that  the  peasants  amongst  these  mountains  lead ; 
they  wanted  meat  to  eat  and  tea  to  drink,  and  how 
were  they  to  be  had  miles  away  from  any  place  where 
such  things  are  sold  ? " 

Since  the  annexation  of  the  Duchy  of  Lucca  to 
that  of  Tuscany,  the  Baths  of  Lucca  have  become 
the  favorite  residence  of  the  Grand  Duke  Leopold 
and  his  family,  during  the  summer  months.  In  this 
respect  the  Tuscan  ruler  followed  the  example  of  the 
Lucchese  Prince,  who  invariably  honored  the  Baths 
with  his  presence  at  a  similar  period  of  the  year. 
Nothing  can  be  more  simple  than  the  habits  of  the 
whole  Grand  Ducal  family  whilst  ruralizing  here. 
Difficult  indeed  it  was  to  realize  at  times  that  the 
riding  party  of  seven  or  eight,  frequently  to  be  met 
with,  could  aspire  to  the  possession  of  regal  dignity; 


72  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

so  very  homely  in  style  and  dress  did  the  whole 
group  appear.  Very  stout  in  person,  and  past  the 
prime  of  life,  the  Grand  Duchess,  on  such  occasions, 
was  to  be  seen  mounted  on  a  somewhat  diminutive 
horse,  arrayed  in  a  riding  habit  of  some  light  yellow 
stuff,  and  wearing  a  large  brown  straw  hat  of  a 
mushroom  shape  upon  her  head.  In  his  plain  black 
coat  and  white  beaver  hat,  the  chief  member  of  the 
party,  the  Grand  Duke  Leopold,  an  elderly  man, 
with  a  gray  moustache,  exhibited  little  of  a  princely 
air  ;  whilst  the  young  Archduke,  in  his  linen  tunic, 
and  the  little  Archduchess,  in  a  common  Manches 
ter  print,  were  far  from  tending  to  increase  the  aris 
tocratic  aspect  of  the  party. 

If  affability  of  demeanor  in  public  could  win  af 
fection,  Leopold  and  his  family  would  enjoy  un 
bounded  popularity  at  the  Baths  of  Lucca ;  for  not 
only  do  they  most  courteously  return  all  salutations 
proffered,  but  they  take  the  initiative  in  this  respect 
in  most  instances,  and  the  passing  stranger  is  almost 
overwhelmed  by  the  task  of  having  to  return  a  vol 
ley  of  royal  inclinations.  In  spite,  however,  of  this 
condescension  on  the  part  of  the  reigning  family, 
Leopold  and  his  rule  are  most  thoroughly  detested 
by  the  Lucchese  people,  in  consequence  of  the  great 
increase  of  taxation  that  the  country  has  had  to 
bear  since  its  annexation  to  the  Grand  Duchy  of 
Tuscany.  Most  opprobrious  are  the  terms  I  have 
heard  applied  to  him  by  the  peasantry  in  convcrsa- 


THE   BATHS    OF   LUCCA.  73 

tion.  "He  grinds  us  down  to  the  ground,"  says 
one :  "  He  takes  the  piece  out  of  our  children's 
mouths/'  says  another :  "  The  old  miser !  he  has 
lots  of  treasure  by  him,"  exclaims  a  third :  and  a 
fourth  has  gravely  assured  me  that  the  Grand  Duke, 
fearing  that  he  will  loose  his  throne,  has  sent  whole 
sackfuls  of  gold  to  California,  whither  he  is  to  fol 
low  it  on  the  occasion  of  the  next  revolution  in  Tus 
cany.  "  Oh !  that  we  had  Carlo  Ludovico  hack 
again,"  exclaimed  all,  with  one  consent :  "  he  did 
not  oppress  us  or  rob  us ;  he  loved  the  English  too, 
and  the  poor  had  always  a  kind  friend  in  him.  It 
was  a  black  day  for  this  country  when  it  passed 
from  the  rule  of  Carlo  Ludovico  into  that  of  Leo 
pold  of  Tuscany." 

This  Carlo  Ludovico  was  the  last  Duke  of  Lucca, 
the  last  bearer  of  the  title ;  for,  in  conformity  with 
the  treaty  of  Vienna,  he  was  obliged  to  yield  up  the 
Lucchese  territory  to  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany, 
011  succeeding,  by  the  death  of  the  Empress  Maria 
Louisa,  to  the  Duchies  of  Parma  and  Piacenza. 
Though  the  impartial  historian  will  be  able  to  say 
little  in  his  praise,  his  character  resembling  that 
of  the  "merry  monarch"  of  England,  yet  Carlo 
Ludovico,  like  many  a  scapegrace  in  every  grade  of 
life,  seems  to  have  possessed  a  certain  good  humor 
and  a  certain  affability  of  manner,  which  obtained 
for  him  a  considerable  degree  of  popularity,  notwith 
standing  the  worthlessness  of  his  character.  At 


74  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

least  this  was  the  case  amongst  the  peasantry 
around  the  Baths  of  Lucca;  and  I  subjoin  an  anec 
dote  of  Carlo  Ludovico  that  was  told  me  by  one  of 
his  warm  admirers : 

"Ah !  Carlo  Ludovico  was  another  sort  of  man 
from  that  gray-muzzled  tyrant  we  have  now  over 
us,"  began  my  informant.  "  He  had  his  faults,  to 
be  sure — who  has  them  not? — but  he  was  not  the 
man  to  grind  down  the  poor  with  taxes,  or  to  send 
spies  about  to  catch  up  and  report  every  hasty  or 
evil  word  that  any  man,  or  any  woman  either, 
might  say  against  him,  as  does  the  present  prince, 
who  for  our  sins  has  been  put  to  reign  over  us.  A 
better  chance  has  the  robber,  or  even  the  murderer, 
of  escaping  on  conviction  from  the  doom  of  a  heavy 
punishment,  than  has  that  man  or  woman  who  has 
been  found  guilty  of  saying  a  word  against  the 
Grand  Duke  or  his  family.  Very  different  was  it 
with  Carlo  Ludovico,  even  if  he  heard  with  his  own 
ears  a  disparaging  remark  about  him;  and  that 
often  might  readily  occur,  for  the  Duke,  just  from 
the  love  of  a  bit  of  frolic,  as  it  were,  was  accustomed 
to  go  about  in  the  dress  of  a  contadino  among  the 
people :  and  to  show  you  now  what  kind  of  a  man 
he  was,  I  will  tell  you  a  story  about  him. 

"  Well,  one  fine  day,  it  happened  that  Carlo  Lu 
dovico,  disguised  in  a  countryman's  dress,  having 
gone  some  little  distance  into  the  country,  being 


THE   BATHS    OF   LUCCA.  75 

somewhat  tired  on  his  road  home,  asked  a  baroccino,* 
who  was  passing  in  his  baroccio,  to  take  him  a  bit  of 
the  way  to  Lucca.  *  Willingly/  said  the  baroccino ; 
and  at  the  word  up  got  the  Duke  beside  him.  Well, 
of  course,  they  began  to  talk,  and  the  baroccino , 
never  dreaming  it  was  any  one  but  a  mere  contadino 
he  had  to  deal  with,  from  this  and  that,  came  to 
mention  the  name  of  Carlo  Ludovico. 

"  <  Well,  what  of  him  ?  '  asked  the  Duke,  quickly. 
'  What  do  you  think  of  Carlo  Ludovico  and  his 
government  ? ' 

" 6  Oh,  the  government  is  not  a  bad  one,  surely, 
for  us  country  people,  at  least,'  returned  the  barocci 
no,  i  since  it  don't  tax  us  hardly  ;  and  as  for  Carlo 
Ludovico,  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  him,  except 
that  he  lets  himself  be  guided  and  governed  by  the 
ladies.' 

"  '  But,  poor  man,'  said  the  Duke,  smiling,  i  that 
is  not  a  great  crime  after  all,  for  there  is  many  a 
good  and  wise  man  in  the  world  that  fares  no  better 
than  Carlo  Ludovico  in  this  particular;'  and  the 
Duke  went  on  talking  quite  pleasantly  and  good- 
humoredly,  without  the  least  show  of  anger,  till 
coming  to  the  gates  of  Lucca  he  got  out  of  the 
baroccio  and  walked  on  towards  his  palace :  not, 
however,  without  being  recognized  in  passing  by 
one  of  the  guards  on  duty  at  the  gate. 

*  The  driver  of  a  light  kind  of  rude  coutry  conveyance  called  a 
baroccio. 


76  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

" '  You  have  made  a  fortune,  I  suppose,  this 
morning  ? '  said  the  guard,  as  he  examined  the  ba 
rocdno' s  cart.* 

"'What  do  you  mean  by  that?'  rejoined  the 
barocdno. 

" i  Why,  you  have  had  a  fine  paying  passenger 
this  morning/  said  the  guard. 

"  '  You  jest,'  said  the  barocdno;  <I  had  none  but 
that  poor  contadino,  who  just  now  got  down — of 
whom  I  did  not  ask  a  soldo  by  way  of  payment.' 

"  '  Poor  contadino,  indeed  ! '  said  the  guard,  laugh 
ing  ;  i  I  tell  you  what,  my  good  fellow,  he  is  far 
richer  than  either  you  or  I  will  ever  be,  no  matter 
how  well  we  may  prosper  in  the  world,  for  I  swear, 
as  I  am  a  living  man,  that  was  Carlo  Ludovico,  the 
Duke,  you  had  beside  you.' 

"  '  The  Duke ! '  exclaimed  the  baroccino,  aghast. 
cOh,  sanctissima  Vcrgine,  what  have  I  done?  What 
have  I  said?  I  am  a  lost  and  a  ruined  man  !'  and 
calling  on  the  saints  in  heaven  to  help  him,  he 
rushed  as  fast  as  his  legs  would  carry  him  after  the 
Duke,  whom  he  soon  overtook. 

"  i  Pardon,  your  Excellency,  pardon  !'  exclaimed 
the  barocdno,  throwing  himself  down  on  his  knees 
before  the  Duke. 

"  t  Pardon  for  what  ? '  asked  Carlo  Ludovico. 

*  In  consequence  of  a  tax  on  provisions  being  generally  levied  in  the 
towns  of  Italy,  all  vehicles  entering  the  gates  of  a  walled  city  are  liable, 
and  often  subjected,  to  a  search. 


THE   BATHS   OF   LUCCA.  77 

"  <  For  what  I  said  about  your  Excellency  and 
the  ladies,'  returned  the  barocdno,  trembling,  and 
quite  white  in  the  face  with  fear. 

i(i  Oh,  if  that  is  all  you  ask  pardon  for,  it  is  given 
at  once,'  said  the  Duke,  smiling ;  <  there  are  not 
ten  men  in  a  hundred  that  escape  petticoat  govern 
ment,  and  why  should  I  be  angry  at  being  told  the 
general  fate  was  mine.  There,  set  your  mind  at 
rest,  and  go  your  way,'  continued  the  Duke,  and 
taking  a  couple  of  scudi  out  of  his  pocket,  he  gave 
them  to  the  baroccino  as  payment  for  the  drive,  and 
went  away  quickly,  leaving  the  poor  man  half  out 
of  his  mind  with  joy." 

With  August  terminated  the  gay  season  of  the 
Baths  of  Lucca,  for  on  the  advent  of  September, 
balls  became  numbered  amongst  the  things  that 
were,  and  public  band  days  undergo  a  little  more 
tardily  a  similar  fate.  "With  the  first  week  of  Sep 
tember,  all  the  symptoms  of  a  general  break-up  of 
the  society  at  the  Baths  were  visible,  and  every  day 
well  laden  traveling  carriages  might  be  seen  starting 
from  the  doors  of  the  numerous  lodging  houses  of 
the  Baths  of  Lucca.  The  lines  of  closed  shutters, 
also,  which  the  hotels  began  to  exhibit,  were  also 
strongly  expressive  of  the  ebbing  tide  of  population, 
and  the  vetturino  lounging  on  the  bridge  invariably 
asked  the  passer-by  if  the  signer  or  the  signora,  as 
the  case  might  be,  was  in  want  of  a  carriage  for 
Lucca. 


78  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

Ill  truth,  judging  from  the  experience  of  1856, 
the  climate  strongly  enjoined  a  change  of  residence 
as  desirable.  With  September  came  thunder-storms, 
night  after  night  and  day  after  day,  for  a  consider 
able  period.  Summer,  instead  of  dying  out,  as 
elsewhere,  by  slow  degrees,  seemed  to  expire  instan 
taneously  :  the  air,  from  having  been  intensely  warm 
in  August,  grew  damp  and  chilly.  The  skies,  from 
having  been  for  week  after  week  unspotted  with  a 
cloud,  showed  only  here  and  there  small  islands  of 
blue  amidst  billowy  masses  of  leaden-colored  vapor. 
A  yellow  hue  began  to  steal  over  the  bright  green 
foliage  of  the  chestnut  trees,  whose  fruit  rapidly  in 
creased  in  size  under  the  favoring  influences  of  the 
moisture.  Depressing  to  the  spirits  as  it  always  is 
to  look  on  gloomy  rain-charged  clouds,  in  no  coun 
try  in  the  world,  perhaps,  can  chill,  damp,  showery 
weather  exercise  a  more  subduing  influence  than  in 
Italy.  In  England,  the  domestic  sun  that  shines 
upon  us  from  our  hearths,  the  heat  and  light  that 
come  streaming  to  us  from  the  bright  coal  fire,  miti 
gate  in  a  great  degree  the  unhappiness  of  our  lot 
in  being  doomed  for  the  most  part  of  the  year  to 
rainy,  gloomy  weather.  But  in  Italy,  under  similar 
circumstances,  when  the  sun  is  hid  behind  masses 
of  leaden  clouds,  from  which  the  rain  pours  down 
with  little  intermission,  perhaps  for  not  only  suc 
cessive  days,  but  weeks  together,  the  compensating 
influences  of  the  English  hearth  are  scarcely  to  be 


THE   BATHS    OF   LUCCA.  79 

found.  In  the  room  which  looked  so  pleasant  in 
bright  sunny  weather,  with  its  green  jalousies,  white 
muslin  curtains,  and  smooth,  uncarpeted  floor,  no 
fire-place  exists  most  probably ;  or  if  by  chance  it 
does,  the  aspirer  after  English  comforts  will  be  half 
choked  and  blinded  by  the  smoke,  which,  refusing 
obstinately  to  ascend  the  chimney,  diffuses  itself  in 
a  dense  cloud  through  every  corner  of  the  room. 
The  foot,  as  it  treads  on  the  cold,  polished  tiles, 
misses  the  soft  warm  carpet  of  England.  Into  the  • 
open  terrace  the  rain  comes  beating,  and  the  chill, 
damp  air  without,  enters  in  currents  through  the 
many  apertures  of  the  ill-fitting  doors  and  windows. 
Wise  is  it  in  English  visitors  to  leave  the  Baths  of 
Lucca  ere  September  rains  begin,  for  an  English  cli 
mate  requires  English  comforts,  such  as  are  there 
unattainable. 

Summer,  however,  though  it  had  died  out  appar 
ently  in  Lucca  during  the  month  of  September, 
had  a  much  longer  life  in  other  parts  of  Tuscany; 
for  in  Leghorn,  where  I  passed  the  beginning  of  the 
month  of  October,  the  weather  was  quite  summer- 
like  in  character,  and  enjoyable  beyond  description. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A   PISAN   CARNIVAL. 

HERE  are  some  ideas  so  essentially 
incongruous  in  their  nature,  that 
one  involuntarily  recoils  from  them 
when  they  are  presented  together 
to  the  mind  :  such  was  the  grim  veiled  skele 
ton  associated  in  days  of  yore  in  Egypt  with 
mad  revelry  and  luxurious  feasts  :  such,  too, 
would  prove  the  allied  images  of  a  wedding 
procession  and  a  hearse,  or  a  dance  performed  over 
the  graves  of  the  mouldering  dead ;  and  but  little 
less  antagonistic  than  such  ideas  seem  to  the  mind, 
is  the  connection  of  Pisa  with  carnival  mirth  and 
revellings,  to  any  one  who  has  made  a  personal 
acquaintance  with  that  town. 

For  Pisa  wears  at  this  present  day  an  air  of  mel 
ancholy  beyond  the  power  of  words  to  describe  ; 
and  did  the  same  principle  still  prevail,  which  as 
signed  in  bygone  years  to  Italian  towns  epithet? 


A    PIS  AN     CARNIVAL.  81 

illustrative  of  the  several  qualities  for  which  they 
were  renowned  ;  as  Lucca  was  termed  "  The  Indus 
trious;"  Florence,  "The  Beautiful;"  and  Genoa, 
"  The  Superb  ;"  even  so  the  propriety  of  now  ap 
pending  the  designation  of  "The  Mournful"  to  the 
name  of  Pisa,  would  be  beyond  dispute. 

The  quiet  of  the  country  exercises  a  soothing  in 
fluence  over  the  feelings  ;  there,  the  ear  asks  not  for 
more  than  the  sound  of  rippling  water,  or  of  rustling 
foliage,  and  the  eye  rests  satisfied  with  such  images  of 
animated  life  as  browsing  cattle  and  the  flight  of 
birds  supply :  but  the  quiet  of  a  town,  and  the  absence 
there  of  sights  and  sounds  indicative  of  the  existence 
of  human  energy  and  activity,  are  depressing  to  the 
spirits  in  a  very  eminent  degree.  Such  is  the  case 
with  Pisa,  whose  deserted  squares,  untrodden  courts 
and  streets,  which,  with  two  or  three  exceptions, 
never  echo  to  the  sound  of  carriage-wheels  and  the 
tread  of  horses,  imbue  the  mind  and  fancy  with 
thoughts  and  images  of  an  intensely  gloomy  hue. 
Passing  along  the  silent  streets,  where  a  dark-robed 
priest  or  a  wandering  beggar  alone  is  found,  one 
might  very  readily  entertain  the  thought  that  the 
houses,  which  rise  up  high  and  with  solemn  aspect 
on  either  side,  have  only  ghosts  and  spiders  for  their 
inhabitants. 

The  youth  of  ten  transformed  into  the  greybeard 
of  fourscore,  supplies  an  apt  illustration  of  the  dif 
ference  that  exists  between  the  Pisa  of  the  present 
6 


82  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

and  the  Pisa  of  mediaeval  days.  A  time  there  was 
when  Pisa — powerful,  industrious,  rich,  renowned — 
was  a  town  in  something  more  than  name ;  when 
along  the  now  deserted  quays,  between  which  the 
Arno  runs,  the  busy  tide  of  life  poured  on  from 
morn  till  night;  when  the  now  silent  streets  re 
sounded  with  the  din  of  trade  ;  when  the  grass- 
grown  piazza  re-echoed  with  the  war-steed's  tread, 
and  from  the  marble  palaces  along  the  river's  side 
issued  the  mail-clad  warriors  and  the  men-at-armp, 
whose  prowess  won  for  Pisa  an  extended  sway  and 
a  widely  known  and  honored  name. 

The  mutability  of  human  fate  is  well  exemplified 
in  the  change  which  has  come  over  Pisa  during  the 
course  of  years.  In  the  Piazza  dei'  Cavalieri,  from 
which  the  Knights  of  San  Stefano  sallied  forth  with 
plume  and  sword  and  blast  of  trumpet  to  fight  the 
enemies  of  the  Cross,  not  a  sound  is  heard,  save  the 
step  of  some  black-clad  priest,  or  the  strolling  beg 
gar's  wail  for  alms,  addressed  to  the  exploring 
stranger.  The  far-famed  Leaning  Tower,  in  com 
pany  with  the  noble  Cathedral  and  Baptistry,  rise 
up  in  lonely  grandeur  out  of  a  grassy  waste.  One 
ancient  palace,  whose  richly  ornamented  front  tes 
tifies  to  its  pristine  dignity,  has  become  the  Cafie 
dell'  Ussero ;  and  in  the  ancient  residence  of  the 
Gambacorti  family — whose  walls  once  echoed  with 
the  sound  of  mirth  and  music,  whose  mirrors  once 
reflected  back  the  forms  of  the  fair  and  the  highly 


A   PIS  AN    CARNIVAL.  83 

|3Orn — clerks  sit  and  write,  discourse  of  tariffs,  du 
ties,  and  such  matters  as  come  within  the  province 
of  the  custom-house  officials  of  the  Grand  Duke  of 
Tuscany. 

Notwithstanding  the  antiquity  of  the  greater  por 
tion  of  the  buildings  of  Pisa,  they  present  in  gen 
eral,  to  an  English  eye,  a  freshness  of  aspect  which 
seems  inconsistent  with  their  venerable  years.  In 
the  clear  air  of  an  Italian  sky,  marble  and  stone, 
undefiled  by  smoke  and  unstained  by  damp,  change 
little  in  color  during  the  course  of  centuries.  Un 
like  what  occurs  in  our  humid  clime,  no  mildew 
vegetation  creeps  up  the  walls,  no  sooty  impurities, 
deepening  from  year  to  year,  mark  with  their  dis 
figuring  trail  the  progress  of  time.  Yet,  reasoning 
from  a  six  weeks'  experience  of  Pisa  during  the  win 
ter  months,  the  absence  of  all  external  symptoms  of 
humidity  on  the  buildings,  appears  somewhat  un 
accountable  ;  for  during  at  least  a  month  of  that 
period  mentioned,  the  rain  fell  with  a  violence  and 
constancy  such  as  I  had  never  previously  witnessed. 
The  first  sound  that  generally  greeted  my  ears  on 
waking,  was  the  pattering  of  rain  drops  against  my 
window,  or  on  the  flags  below  ;  and  if,  perhaps,  in 
the  afternoon,  a  cessation  of  a  couple  of  hours  oc 
curred,  yet  at  the  approach  of  night  the  rain,  as  if 
it  had  recruited  its  energies  by  that  short  rest,  began 
once  more  to  fall  with  additional  vehemence.  For 
days  together,  the  sole  testimony  the  sun  vouchsafed 


84  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

to  the  Pisans  of  his   continued  existence,  was  the 
regular  alternation  of  light  and  darkness. 

Under  the  influence  of  the  leaden  sky  and  the 
murky  clouds  of  that  wet  and  gloomy  season,  the 
wonted  melancholy  deserted  aspect  of  Pisa  became 
deepened  in  a  tenfold  degree.  The  wet  pavements 
were  trodden  but  by  very  few  who  were  not  forced 
to  leave  the  shelter  of  their  houses  by  some  affair  of 
pressing  necessity.  The  north  side  of  the  Arno  — 
the  usual  lounge  of  the  idler  in  the  afternoon  —  ex 
hibited  only  here  and  there,  at  the  favorite  hour,  a 
green  umbrella,  covering  a  shaven  face  surmounted 
with  a  three-cornered  hat,  or  a  melodramatic-look 
ing  Pisan  gentleman  shrouded  in  the  folds  of  a 
voluminous  cloak.  Few  and  far  between,  too,  were 
the  beggars  (usually  so  abounding)  that  were  to  be 
seen.  In  contrast  with  the  silence  and  deadness  of 
the  streets  that  skirted  the  Arno's  either  edge,  that 
river  —  swollen  by  the  long-continued  rain — roared 
madly,  furiously  along,  bearing  on  its  muddy  sur 
face  logs  of  wood,  bundles  of  hay  or  straw,  and 
other  memorials  of  the  depredations  it  was  commit- 
ing  in  the  country  through  which  it  passed.  The 
weather  was  very  bad,  the  Pisans  owned,  in  refer 
ence  to  my  not  particulary  complimentary  remarks 
on  the  character  of  their  winter  clime ;  but  while 
they  admitted  this,  they  hastened  to  assure  me,  with 
a  patriotism  truly  commendable,  that  the  season  was 
stravagante — implying,  by  this  term,  that  the  weath- 


A   PISAN    CARNIVAL.  85 

er  had  departed  from  the  usual  meritorious  tenor  of 
its  ways  :  an  assurance  somewhat  difficult  to  be 
lieve,  when  it  came  to  my  knowledge  that  only  the 
year  before  a  terrific  inundation  of  the  Arno  had 
occurred,  by  which  life,  as  well  as  a  vast  amount  of 
property,  had  been  destroyed. 

If  the  weather  had  been  the  bitterest  enemy  of 
the  Pisans,  it  could  not  have  showed  its  malice  more 
than  by  selecting  this  particular  time  for  indulging 
in  a  stravaganza ;  as  it  was  the  period  between 
Christmas  and  Lent  —  a  period  varying  in  length 
every  year — which  custom  has  for  many  centuries  in 
Italy  dedicated  especially  to  pleasure.  In  this  season 
of  which  I  speak — viz.,  the  winter  of  1856 — the  inter 
val  between  Christmas  and  Easter  was  unusually 
short ;  and  instead  of  having,  as  sometimes  hap 
pens,  a  two  months'  licensed  season  for  enjoyment, 
the  Pisans  were  obliged  to  condense  their  amuse 
ments  into  the  narrow  compass  of  five  weeks  —  a 
circumstance  doubtless  annoying  in  itself,  but  more 
particularly  so  when  it  is  taken  into  consideration 
that  in  these  five  weeks  they  had  to  indemnify 
themselves  for  the  absence  of  their  wonted  carnival 
pleasures  during  a  period  of  eight  years. 

This  privation  owed  its  origin,  and  also  its  con 
tinuance  for  the  period  mentioned,  to  causes  of  a 
political  nature.  In  the  winters  of  1848  and  1849, 
the  populace  of  the  Tuscan  towns  were  too  busily 
engaged  in  making  public  demonstrations  in  favor 


86  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

of  the  republican  cause,  in  thinking  of  and  discuss 
ing  political  events,  to  play  the  merry-andrew  in 
mask  and  domino.  In  the  five  succeeding  years, 
the  presence  of  the  detested  Austrians,  with  whom 
Leopold,  on  his  restoration  to  power,  had  filled  the 
Tuscan  towns — combined  with  a  prohibition  issued 
against  the  use  of  masks — effectually  checked  all 
public  demonstrations  of  carnival  mirth.  In  1855, 
however,  reassured  by  the  pacific  aspect  of  affairs, 
the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  dismissed  his  troops, 
and  this  measure  being  followed  by  the  revocation 
of  the  edict  against  masks,  the  Pisans,  as  well  as  the 
other  inhabitants  of  the  Tuscan  towns,  prepared  to 
greet  the  next  arrival  of  the  festive  season  with  the 
warmth  and  cordiality  due  to  the  return  of  a  much- 
regretted  and  well-loved  friend. 

Under  these  circumstances,  therefore,  it  may  read 
ily  be  imagined  with  what  sensations  of  despair 
the  Pisans  looked  up  to  their  clouded  skies,  from 
which  the  rain  fell  for  many  weeks,  with  periods  of 
but  short  intermission.  Making  the  most,  however, 
of  the  few  hours  of  sunshine  or  of  fair  weather  they 
might  happen  to  enjoy,  a  motley  assemblage  of  old 
and  young,  of  rich  and  poor,  might  be  seen  on  an 
occasional  January  afternoon,  extending  along  the 
street  which  skirts  the  Arno  on  its  northern  side, 
shouting,  laughing,  talking,  and  cheering  the  oddly- 
dressed  figures  that  passed  before  their  view.  At 
first,  the  masks  were  few  in  number ;  but,  as  time 


A   PISAN    CARNIVAL.  87 

wore  on,  and  as  the  weather  towards  the  end  of  the 
month  began  to  grow  fine,  the  maskers  became 
more  numerous,  until  at  length,  in  the  week  that 
preceded  Lent,  they  increased  to  quite  a  throng.  A 
very  curious  sight  it  was  for  a  stranger  to  look 
down,  as  I  did,  from  my  window,  on  that  crowd  — 
to  watch  the  eager,  excited  faces,  to  hear  the  shouts, 
and  to  see  the  antics  of  a  people  intoxicated  (as  it 
were)  with  joy.  Nor  did  the  amusement,  often  re 
peated  as  it  was,  seem  in  the  least  degree  to  pall 
upon  the  taste  ;  on  the  contrary,  the  furor  for  mask 
ing,  and  for  seeing  masks,  appeared  daily  to  in 
crease.  The  tradesman  left  his  shop,  the  artizan 
his  loom,  the  straw-platter  threw  her  work  aside,  the 
wrinkled  grand-dame  put  her  distaff  by,  and  all, 
with  one  accord,  from  every  street  and  back  lane  of 
the  town,  hurried  off  each  afternoon  to  take  their 
accustomed  share,  either  as  spectators  or  actors,  in 
the  strange  scene  enacted  by  the  river's  side. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  say  what  style  of  dress, 
amongst  the  maskers,  was  the  favorite  or  the  pre 
vailing  one,  so  varied  were  the  garbs  that  met  the 
view.  Here,  a  black  domino  might  be  seen,  con 
trasting  there  with  the  motley  array  of  a  circus 
clown  ;  whilst  some  wore  gigantic  masks,  display 
ing  noses  of  prodigious  length,  or  faces  looking  four 
different  ways  ;  others  shrouded  their  features  from 
the  public  gaze  by  a  simple  covering  of  black  silk, 
through  two  apertures  in  which  gleamed  forth  a 


88  LIFE    IN    TUSCANY. 

pair  of  bright,  laughing  eyes.  Here,  might  be  seen 
a  cavalier,  with  a  high  cocked-bat,  long  flowing 
curls,  and  fashion  of  dress  appertaining  to  the  olden 
time,  conducting,  with  an  infinity  of  bows,  a  dame 
decked  forth  in  a  corresponding  style,  moving  along 
with  a  suspiciously  masculine  stride.  Xow,  came 
dancing,  springing  by,  a  bevy  of  masked  girls 
dressed  in  white,  w^ith  fluttering  ribbons  and  flowers 
in  their  hair  ;  and  anon,  a  set  of  warriors,  with  pol 
ished  cuirasses  and  visors  down,  drove  (somewhat 
incongruously)  slowly  by.  As  the  figures  in  the 
kaleidoscope  vary  with  every  shake,  so  at  every 
moment  the  scene  was  changed.  Clowns  and  dom- 
inos — blue,  black,  green,  yellow,  red — knights  and 
dancing  girls,  prodigious  noses,  and  miraculous 
heads — appeared  and  reappeared  in  new  combina 
tions  each  successive  moment ;  whilst  the  scene  was 
further  varied  by  a  line  of  carriages  of  every  degree 
of  dignity,  from  the  smart  equipage  of  a  Pisan  noble 
to  the  dingy  vehicle  called  into  requisition  for  the 
occasion  from  the  neighboring  stand. 

Equally  great  as  the  variety  of  scene  was  the  va 
riety  of  sound  :  with  the  roar  of  the  muddy  river, 
swollen  by  the  recent  heavy  rains,  were  blended  the 
tramp  of  horses,  the  roll  of  wheels,  and  the  tones  of 
the  human  voice,  from  the  shrill  treble  of  the  en 
raptured  child,  to  the  deep  accents  of  the  scarcely 
less  delighted  man ;  high  in  the  air  rose  the  mask 
er's  piercing  trill,  a  sound  seemingly  impracticable 


A   PIS  AN   CARNIVAL.  89 

for  any  but  Italian  throats  or  lips  to  give,  and  which, 
amidst  the  prevailing  laughter,  shouts  and  cheers, 
was  ever  distinguishable.  How  voices  lasted  as  they 
did,  when  day  after  day  their  po\vers  were  taxed  to 
such  an  extreme  degree,  appeared  to  me  somewhat 
remarkable.  The  long  continued  duration  of  the 
excitement  was  a  source  to  me  also  of  some  little 
wonder ;  for  amongst  the  natives  of  the  British  isles 
a  long  protracted  pastime,  such  as  the  carnival  was, 
would,  before  half  its  course  was  run,  have  died  out 
certainly  of  weariness  and  satiety.  Here,  on  the 
contrary,  to  the  very  last  moment  of  the  carnival's 
existence,  the  evidences  of  popular  enjoyment  went 
011  daily  increasing.  To  the  colder,  graver  tempera 
ment  of  northern  climes,  the  huge  draughts  of  pleas 
ure  that  can  be  swallowed  by  the  impulsive,  excitable 
natures  living  under  southern  skies  must  prove  a 
subject  of  surprise  ;  and  to  some,  perhaps,  may  as 
sume  the  aspect  of  a  privilege  to  be  envied. 

To  the  masquerade  by  day,  in  the  public  streets 
of  Pisa,  succeeded  masquerades  at  night,  in  the 
theatre  or  in  private  houses.  Not  only  had  the  rich 
and  noble  their  masked  balls,  but  the  shopkeeper, 
and  even  the  servant,  had  theirs  also  ;  and  often  the 
tardy  light  of  a  January  morning  dawned  upon  the 
unfinished  festivities.  Private  theatricals  were  also 
indulged  in  to  a  considerable  extent,  not  only  by 
the  upper,  bat  by  the  middle  classes  of  the  commu 
nity.  Two  pretty  young  girls  whom  I  knew, 


90  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

daughters  of  a  hotel-keeper  in  the  town,  displayed 
considerable  proficiency  in  this  accomplishment; 
and  a  man-servant  in  the  house  where  I  was  stay 
ing,  who  enacted  in  the  morning  the  housemaid's 
part  of  sweeping,  dusting  and  cleaning,  appeared  in 
the  evening,  on  some  private  stage,  in  the  character 
of  an  actor.  Another  carnival  amusement  deserves 
also  to  he  mentioned.  From  the  hour  of  six  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  till  late  at  night,  the  streets  were 
traversed,  towards  the  end  of  the  festive  season, 
with  bands  of  masqueraders ;  men  and  women,  who, 
disguised  in  fancy  dress,  or  simple  domino,  rushed 
into  their  friends'  houses,  there  to  frisk  about,  to 
laugh,  to  utter  witticisms  in  feigned  voices  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  then  to  vanish  as  suddenly  as  they  had 
entered.  One  scene  of  this  description,  which  fell 
under  my  notice,  was  about  the  very  oddest  and 
most  curious  sight  I  ever  witnessed. 

On  previous  occasions,  the  glories  of  the  carnival 
came  to  the  culminating  point  on  the  two  last  clays 
of  its  existence  ;  for  not  only  was  the  most  expensive 
and  striking  style  of  array  reserved  for  this  period, 
but  a  new  amusement  was  introduced  to  vary  the 
aspect  of  the  daily  scene.  In  former  times,  an 
amicable  warfare,  carried  on  between  the  several 
.occupants  of  the  carriages  that  passed  each  other  in 
line,  had  whitened  the  pavement  of  the  Lung'  Arno 
with  a  carnival  missile  termed  confetti,  in  form  like 
comfits,  but  composed  of  lime  instead  of  sugar. 


A    PISAN   CARNIVAL.  91 

This  year,  however,  to  the  disappointment  of  the 
Pisans  in  general,  and  to  the  despair  of  the  confetti 
manufacturers  in  particular,  the  customary  warfare, 
hoth  in  lime  and  sugar  comfits,  was  prohibited, 
under  pain  of  heavy  penalties,  duly  declared  by 
means  of  notices  posted  everywhere  throughout  the 
town.  That  this  prohibition  emanated  from  some 
abstruse  political  motive  was  generally  believed ; 
but  it  was  quite  beyond  the  power  of  ordinary  intel 
lects  to  comprehend  how,  when  the  other  carnival 
weapon  of  flowers  was  tacitly  permitted  to  be  used, 
treason  and  danger  to  the  State  was  more  likely  to 
lurk  in  the  interchange  of  confetti  and  bonbons  than 
in  a  warfare  carried  on  by  volleys  of  violets,  snow 
drops  or  camelias. 

However  unreasonable  the  prohibition  might  seem 
to  the  Pisans,  they  were  too  well  drilled  into  obe 
dience  not  to  conduct  themselves  in  conformity  with 
the  Government  decree.  At  least  such  was  gener 
ally  the  case  ;  for  there  were  to  be  found  a  few  bold 
spirits,  belonging  to  the  upper  classes  of  society, 
who  dared  to  act  in  defiance  of  the  new-made  law'1 

a 

Short-lived,  however,  was  the  triumph  that  these 
rebels  enjoyed.  One,  whose  spotless  and  well-fitting 
white  kid  gloves  and  boots  of  varnished  leather 
formed  a  striking  contrast  wTith  the  grotesque  and 
gigantic  head  he  wore,  and  the  donkey  he  bestrode, 
had  not  half  emptied  his  pockets  of  the  comfits  with 
which  they  had  been  filled,  before  he  was  favored 


92  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

with  some  not  particularly  acceptable  attentions  on 
the  part  of  the  police.  A  similar  fate  awaited  a 
party  of  gorgeously  dressed  Greeks,  detected  in 
the  crime  of  discharging  from  their  carriage  a  vol 
ley  of  comfits  at  some  passing  friends.  Unpleasant, 
however,  as  such  incidents  doubtless  were  to  the 
parties  immediately  concerned,  they  did  not  seem 
to  cast  any  cloud  upon  the  public  mirth,  for  in  de 
fault  of  the  proscribed  amunition,  a  smart  fire  of 
bouquets  was  kept  up  between  carriage  and  carriage ; 
giving  rise  to  much  excitement,  and  to  no  small 
danger  to  little  boys,  who  scrambled  amongst  the 
feet  of  horses  to  earn  a  trifle  by  selling  to  the  eager 
combatants  such  bouquets  as,  having  missed  their 
aim,  had  fallen  upon  the  ground.  The  commodity 
being  somewhat  limited  in  amount,  the  traffic  was 
brisk,  high  prices  wrcre  obtained ;  and  many  a 
bouquet  was  probably  sold  and  re-sold  a  dozen  of 
times. 

Amidst  evidences  of  unabated  enjoyment,  the  sun 
went  down  upon  the  last  day  of  the  carnival.  Dom 
ino  still  saluted  domino  with  a  laugh  and  a  shout, 
clowns  still  danced  and  sung,  harlequin  still  flourish 
ed  his  wooden  sword,  Punch  still  sported  his  tre 
mendous  nose,  when,  as  the  darkness  of  the  evening 
cast  a  veil  over  the  scene,  the  whole  line  of  the 
Lung'  Arno  became  dotted  over  with  minute  points 
of  light,  emanating  from  wrax  tapers  which  the  oc- 


A   PISAN   CARNIVAL.  93 

cupants  of  the  carriages  held  in  their  hands ;  and 
which  they  as  zealously  strove  to  guard  from  ex 
tinction,  as  they  endeavored  to  extinguish  those 
that  their  neighbors  held.  Senza  moecolo*  was  the 
exulting  cry  that  awaited  the  victims  of  a  success 
ful  blast,  and  many  a  senza  moccolo  rose  upwards 
on  the  air.  Long  after  night  had  fairly  set  in,  the 
gleaming  lights  were  visible  all  along  the  river's 
side,  wrhile  carriage  still  followed  carriage  in  two 
lines,  and  tapers  were  extinguished,  lit  and  re-ex 
tinguished  innumerable  times.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
actors  in  the  scene  would  never  tire :  nor  was  it, 
indeed,  from  any  sensation  of  weariness  that  the 
noisy  throng  at  length  dispersed,  for  few  w^ere  there, 
at  least  of  its  more  youthful  portion,  both  rich  and 
poor,  noble  and  plebeian,  that  did  not  dance  out  the 
last  hours  of  the  expiring  festival. 

With  the  first  day  of  Lent,  the  town  of  Pisa  re 
sumed  its  ordinary  aspect  of  dulness,  solitude  and 
dejection.  In  the  morning,  indeed,  the  interior  of 
the  churches  offered  to  the  eye  a  somewhat  animat 
ed  spectacle,  from  the  number  of  persons  of  every 
degree  w^ho  flocked  thither  to  receive  the  mark  of 
the  penitential  ashes  on  their  head ;  and  no  wonder, 
indeed,  so  many  should  be  eager  to  perform  this 
act  of  humiliation,  since,  as  an  Italian  lady  told  me, 
who  had  herself  conformed  to  the  requirements  of 
the  church  in  this  particular,  that  not  only  the  fol- 

*  Witho  it  light. 


94  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

lies,  but  the  misdeeds  of  carnival  times,  were  in  a 
great  degree  atoned  for  by  tins  means.  But  after 
the  transient  effervescence  attending  on  this  cere 
monial  was  at  an  end — when  every  professing  Catho 
lic  had  complied  with  the  requisitions  of  his  faith, 
Pisa  sank  back  into  its  old  listless  and  stagnant 
state  again.  The  Lung'  Arno,  so  recently  the  scene 
of  an  ever-varying  comedy,  so  recently  crowded 
with  a  noisy,  exulting  throng,  now  echoed  only  with 
the  whining  voices  of  the  importunate  beggars,  who 
pursued  the  few  chance  passers-by  with  an  urgent 
cry  for  alms.  In  place  of  the  merry-maker's  motley 
garb,  whose  brilliant  colors  had  flashed  before  the 
eye — in  place  of  the  joyous  laugh  and  shout  that 
had  filled  the  air  not  many  hours  ago  —  I  saw  the 
mendicant's  squalid  form,  the  cripple's  distorted 
frame,  and  while  the  blind  rolled  their  sightless 
eyes,  and  the  maimed  thrust  forth  their  mutilated 
limbs,  and  the  widow  pointed  to  her  corpse-like 
child,  I  heard  repeated,  with  the  same  professional 
wail,  by  old  and  young,  "Dademi  qualchc  cosa,  per 
Vamor  di  Dio,  signorina;  un  quattrino,  ho  tanto  fame,"* 
and  so  on,  in  slightly  varying  terms,  over  and  over, 
continually. 

If,  to  those  who  know  Pisa  but  by  repute,  that 
city  and  its  wonderful  Leaning  Tower  are  indissol- 
ubly  connected  in  the  mind;  to  those  who  have  cn- 

*  "Give  me  something  for  the  love  of  God,  lady;  a  farthing.  J  am 
so  very  hungry." 


A   PISAN   CARNIVAL. 


95 


joyed,  as  I  did,  an  intimate  personal  acquaintance 
with  that  town  for  several  weeks,  Pisa  and  beggars 
will  be  ideas  inseparably  associated  together  ever 
afterwards. 


CHAPTER  V. 

FLORENTINE    SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS. 

HE  Florentines  seem  quite  as  proud 
and  as  fond  of  their  city  as  are  the 
Parisians  of  theirs.  Praise  Florence 
to  an  inhabitant  of  that  town,  and 
he  will  smile  and  look  quite  flattered,  as  if 
what  had  been  said  was  a  compliment  to  him 
self;  but  venture  even  in  the  gentlest  manner 
to  hint  at  some  defect,  and  you  AY  ill  sec  his 
brow  contract,  and  find  out  shortly  that  the  impu 
tation  of  bad  taste  is  fixed  on  you  irrevocably,  in 
his  opinion. 

For  many  ages  the  epithet  of  "The  Beautiful" 
has  been  affixed  to  the  town ;  and  certainly,  as  far 
as  its  situation  is  concerned,  no  one  for  a  moment 
can  dispute  the  correctness  of  the  term.  Placed  at 
the  upper  extremity  of  the  fertile  valley  through 
which  the  Arno  flows,  it  is  commanded  by  the  Ap- 
penines,  whose  lofty  peaks,  which  for  a  considerable 


FLORENTINE   SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS.  97 

portion  of  the  year  are  crowned  with  snow,  tower 
above  ranges  of  undulating  hills  of  varying  form,  all 
bright  with  verdure,  all  studded  over  with  peasant 
dwellings,  villages,  and  with  villas,  which  peer  forth 
brightly  from  out  a  luxuriant  growth  of  vines  and 
olive  trees.  From  the  heights  of  Bellosguardo,  or 
from  the  still  more  elevated  site  of  Fiesole,  a  view 
is  beheld  which  cannot  fail  to  make  an  indelible 
impression  on  the  memory.  Below — hushed  in  that 
solemn  silence,  with  which  distance  ever  invests  the 
busiest  scene  of  human  toil  and  life  —  lies  Florence, 
crowned  with  its  vast  cathedral  dome,  the  pride  and 
wonder  of  a  former  age.  From  the  amphitheatre 
of  verdant  hills,  by  which  the  city  is  on  most  sides 
girt,  the  eye  turns  to  linger  on  that  rich  vale  through 
which  the  Arno  winds  onward  to  the  sea.  Here, 
heights  rising  above  heights ;  there  mountains  mark 
ing  their  outlines  on  the  bright  blue  sky ;  with  steep 
declivities  or  gentle  slopes,  melting  down  by  slow 
gradations  into  a  far-stretching  plain  of  exuberant 
fertility  —  present  a  picture  —  or  rather  a  series  of 
pictures — from  which  the  eye  turns  reluctantly  away. 
Though  the  greatness  and  glory  of  Florence  have, 
like  the  renown  of  Pisa,  passed  away,  it  is  far  from 
exhibiting  the  mournful  aspect  which  characterizes 
its  former  rival  in  the  present  day.  Life  does  not 
seem  to  stagnate  in  Florence  as  it  does  in  Pisa ;  its 
streets  being,  for  the  most  part,  neither  silent  nor 
solitary.  The  priest  and  the  beggar,  who  appear  in 


98  LIFE   IN    TUSCANY. 

Pisa  on  ordinary  occasions  to  form  tlie  principal  por 
tion  of  the  population  of  the  town,  become,  in  Flor 
ence,  but  inconsiderable  items,  as  regards  numbers, 
in  the  passing  throng.  While  Pisa  seems  to  brood 
over  the  remembrance  of  its  former  greatness,  Flor 
ence,  as  if  forgetful  of  its  bygone  glories,  welcomes 
the  stranger  with  a  look  of  cheerfulness,  and  even 
gaiety :  and  that,  too,  in  despite  of  the  grirn  dark 
palaces,  with  their  prison-like  windows,  that  flank 
the  street,  and  which  testify  to  those  times  of  inse 
curity  and  turbulence  that  have  passed  away — when 
Guelph  and  Ghibelline  contended  together  in  the 
streets,  and  when  the  air  was  rent  by  the  cry  of  op 
posing  factions. 

The  streets  of  Florence  in  those  bygone  days  must 
have  worn  an  aspect  widely  different  from  that  they 
exhibit  now,  owing  to  the  essential  difference  that 
exists  in  point  of  manners,  of  modes  of  life,  and  of 
customs,  between  the  past  and  present.  Under  the 
deep  broad  cornice,  projecting  from  the  roof  of  the 
merchant  noble's  fortress-palace,  dependants  no 
longer  lounge  upon  the  bench  of  stone  that  runs 
along  the  basement  story  of  the  building.  Through 
those  large  iron  rings,  which  hang  pendent  at  interr 
vals  from  the  wall,  the  bridles  of  waiting  horses  or 
samples  of  merchandise  are  no  longer  drawn ;  nor 
do  they  any  longer  serve  the  part  of  torch-holders 
on  festive  occasions.  No  longer  do  their  inner  courts 
re-echo  with  the  heavy  tread  of  mail-clad  men,  nor 


FLORENTINE    SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS.  99 

do  their  arcades  resound  with  the  hum  of  trade ;  for 
now  no  merchant  comes  there  to  confer  with  his 
brother  merchant  on  commercial  business ;  nor  do 
the  young  and  old  repair  thither  to  buy  the  rich  pro 
ducts  of  the  East  or  of  Florentine  looms — spices, 
gems,  porcelain,  perfumes,  wrought  ivory  cabinets, 
brocades,  and  gorgeous  tissues.  Neither  do  the 
streets  display  the  figure  of  the  grim  man-at-arms 
or  of  the  mail-clad  knight  mounted  on  his  war  steed, 
and  ever  prepared  for  combat. 

In  contrast  with  the  scene  such  images  suggest  is 
the  one  presented  by  the  principal  streets  of  Flor 
ence  at  the  present  day.  Let  us  take  one  of  them — 
that  which  runs,  for  instance,  from  the  Cathedral  to 
the  Piazza  del  Gran  Duca,  and  remark  the  objects 
it  presents  to  notice.  On  either  hand  are  shops  of 
every  description,  into  whose  windows  sundry  pass 
ers-by  gaze — some  with  eager  interest,  and  some 
with  listless  curiosity.  Here  approach  two  dark- 
eyed  Florentine  ladies,  dressed  out  for  public  admi 
ration  in  the  last  extravagance  of  Parisian  fashion  ; 
the  most  delicate  of  Tulle  veils  float  before  their 
faces,  for  they  use  a  veil  to  enhance,  and  not  to  con 
ceal,  the  merit  of  their  features.  Here  comes  the 
young  Florentine  gentleman,  with  delicate-colored 
kid  gloves,  French  boots,  glossy  hat,  and  well-trim 
med  and  well-arranged  moustache  and  whiskers. 
In  passing,  he  stares  at  the  Florentine  belles  in  a 
way  that  wrould  be  considered  rude  in  England,  but 


100  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

is  merely  received  as  a  welcome  tribute  to  their 
charms  by  the  gratified  ladies.  Here  conies  a  sallow 
priest,  with  shaven  face,  with  long  black  robe  de 
scending  to  his  feet,  with  buckles  in  his  shoes,  and 
a  triangular  cocked  hat  upon  his  head.  ]S"ot  far 
behind  him  follows  a  capuchin  friar,  clad  in  a  dark 
brown  cloak  with  falling  hood,  which,  on  an  emerg 
ency,  can  be  drawn  over  his  shaven  crown ;  from 
the  cord  tied  round  his  waist,  hangs  a  rosary,  and 
his  bare  feet  are  shod  with  sandals.  Moody  is  his 
face,  dim  his  eye,  and  uncleanly  his  aspect :  let  us 
turn  away  from  him,  for  he  is  not  an  agreeable  ob 
ject  to  contemplate. 

Far  otherwise  is  that  well-looking,  dark-eyed, 
sunburnt  peasant  woman,  wearing  a  hat,  the  broad 
and  limp  rim  of  which  goes  flapping  about  with  her 
every  movement,  and  wrho,  to  judge  from  the  basket 
hanging  on  her  arm,  has  visited  town  with  the  ob 
ject  of  making  some  purchases.  ^Text  comes  into 
view  the  very  impersonification  of  an  Italian  brig 
and,  a  middle-aged,  dark,  fierce,  gloomy-looking 
man,  enshrouded  in  the  folds  of  a  voluminous  cloak, 
one  end  of  which  has  been  flung  across  his  left 
shoulder,  whilst  his  hat  is  pressed  so  low  down  on 
his  head  as  nearly  to  conceal  his  frowning  forehead. 
Does  not  a  stiletto  seem  to  be  a  natural  accomplish 
ment  to  that  form  and  face,  suggestive  as  they  are 
of  tales  of  blood  and  vengeance?  But  let  him  pass 
by  without  further  notice,  and  fix  your  gaze  on  that 


FLORENTINE    SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS.  101 

strange  and  startling  procession  that  is  approaching: 
onward  it  comes,  an  assemblage  of  frightful-looking 
figures,  each  clad  from  head  to  foot  in  a  loose  robe 
of  black,  with  eyes  that  stare  out  grimly  through 
two  apertures  in  the  black  silk  hooded  mask  that 
conceals  their  features.  Goblins  they  might  be 
thought ;  imps  of  iniquity,  ready  for  any  deed  of 
darkness.  But  far  different,  indeed,  is  their  char 
acter,  and  of  a  very  different  nature,  too,  is  the  act 
which  they  are  now  performing  from  those  of  which 
their  appearance  is  suggestive ;  and  as  they  come 
on  rapidly,  bearing  a  litter  aloft  betwreen  them,  the 
carriages  and  the  pedestrians  turn  aside  to  make 
way  for  them ;  and  not  a  man  whom  they  pass  by 
or  meet,  but  raises  or  touches  his  hat  reverentially 
to  them  as  they  speed  on  their  charitable  mission ; 
for  they  are  the  Brothers  of  the  Misercordia  (Mercy), 
conveying  a  sick  man  to  the  hospital.  All  hail  to 
ye,  brothers  !  I  also  touch  my  hat  to  you,  in  spirit. 
From  the  aspect  presented  by  the  streets  of  Flor 
ence  let  us  turn  to  that  presented  by  its  pleasure- 
grounds,  and  take  a  view  of  life  in  the  form  in 
which  it  is  there  offered  to  our  notice.  Adjoining 
the  magnificent  palace  of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tus 
cany  arc  the  Boboli  gardens,  which  are  thrown  open 
on  certain  days  to  the  public.  Let  us  select  Sunday 
for  the  day  of  our  visit  there,  as  otherwise  we  shall 
see  few  but  nursery-maids  and  children.  Following 
in  the  train  of  a  joyous  throng,  bent  upon  obtaining 


102  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

a  transient  taste  of  rural  enjoyment  on  this  their 
great  day  of  recreation,  we  pass  by  the  front  of  the 
palace  to  a  high  arch,  through  which  the  gardens 
are  entered.  Along  the  walk  which  skirts  the  hase 
of  a  precipitous  hill,  we  follow  on  in  the  track  of 
the  greatest  portion  of  the  throng  that  has  preceded 
us ;  and  at  length  quitting  the  broad  gravel  way 
and  the  crowd,  we  turn  into  a  side  walk,  where  we 
find  ourselves  in  a  long  regular  arcade  of  overarch 
ing  boughs,  resembling  a  continuous  arbor,  into 
which  the  sun,  in  its  summer  noonday  might,  can 
never  penetrate  further  than  to  shed  a  twilight 
glimmer  through  the  interior.  The  arcade  termin 
ates  in  a  broad  avenue,  at  either  side  of  which  rise 
up  massive  walls  of  verdure,  serving  as  a  back 
ground  for  numerous  statues.  From  the  summit  of 
a  steep  hill,  up  which  the  avenue  runs  in  a  straight 
line,  a  fine  view  of  the  surrounding  country  rewards 
the  toiling  pilgrim  in  search  of  the  picturesque  and 
beautiful ;  but  the  ascent  is  somewhat  too  steep  and 
lengthened  for  a  warm  and  fine  day  like  this,  when 
the  sun — although  it  has  not  a  long  journey  to  make 
to  attain  the  horizon — still  shines  with  warmth  and 
power.  Much  pleasanter  it  is  to  descend  to  the  very, 
foot  of  the  hill,  where  a  fountain  diffuses  around  a 
sense  of  coolness  and  freshness;  and  where  arbors 
and  shady  seats  offer  a  pleasant  retreat  to  the  tired 
or  heated  wanderer.  Here,  for  a  short  time,  let  us 
sit  down  and  enjoy  the  scene  before  us.  A  right 


FLORENTINE    SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS.  103 

pleasant  seat  it  is,  with  the  sound  of  falling  water, 
and  the  song  of  birds,  and  the  voices  of  merry  chil 
dren,  and  of  men  and  women,  blending  all  together 
and  falling  on  the  ear  harmoniously,  whilst  the  eye 
dwells  on  walls  of  verdure,  on  gleams  of  quivering 
sunlight  beneath  overarching  boughs,  on  sparkling 
water,  on  vases,  shrubs  and  flowers,  and  on  marble 
statues,  contrasting  with  the  changing,  shifting  forms 
of  animated  life  we  see  around  us. 

Pleasant,  however,  as  are  the  Boboli  gardens  in 
the  hot  days  of  summer,  and  proud  of  them  as  are 
the  Florentines,  they  are  left  almost  entirely  to  the 
occupation  of  the  working  classes  of  the  town  on 
the  two  days  of  the  week  on  which  alone  they  are 
thrown  open  to  the  public.  The  servant  in  her  cap, 
the  humble  tradeswoman  with  a  red  or  blue  hand 
kerchief  tied  round  her  head,  the  artizan  in  his  hol 
iday  dress,  the  soldier  off  duty,  and  the  families  of 
venders  of  pork,  cheese,  beer  and  maccaroni  in  back 
streets ;  these,  and  such  as  these — petty  shopkeep 
ers,  hucksters,  mechanics — in  fact,  persons  belonging 
to  the  humbler  classes  of  society,  constitute  the 
throng  that  may  be  seen  strolling  about  in  the  Bob 
oli  gardens. 

Very  different  is  the  case  in  regard  to  the  Ca seine, 
another  Florentine  pleasure-ground,  which  takes  its 
name  from  an  adjoining  dairy  farm  belonging  to 
the  Grand  Duke.  Lying  outside  the  walls  of  the 
town,  and  affording  drives  of  considerable  extent, 


104  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

these  Cascine  (the  Hyde  Park  of  Florence)  are  the 
favorite  resort  of  the  native  and  foreign  fashionable 
classes  of  the  town.  On  a  fine  summer's  afternoon, 
mingling  with  the  dark-eyed  and  dark-complexioned 
Italian  throng,  may  be  seen  numbers  of  English  and 
Americans,  easy  of  recognition  amidst  the  mass,  not 
only  by  their  air  and  bearing,  but  by  their  fairer 
skins  and  lighter  hair;  and  the  frequency  with 
which  faces  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  type  present  them 
selves  to  view,  testifies  to  the  very  large  colonies  of 
that  race  to  be  found  within  the  walls  of  Florence. 
The  Cascine  consist  of  a  narrow  strip  of  well- 
wooded  level  land,  extending  parallel  to  the  river 
for  about  a  mile  and  a  half  along  its  northern  side, 
and  are  in  themselves  devoid  of  any  beauty  beyond 
that  which  fine  spreading  forest  trees,  green  turf, 
and  luxuriant  underwood  invariably  possess.  But 
to  the  attractions  of  a  general  kind  which  they  en 
joy,  are  added  some  of  an  extraneous  nature  that 
confer  on  them  a  particular  charm  ;  for  through  the 
trees  which  overarch  the  walks  and  public  drive,  is 
seen  the  front  range  of  hills  belonging  to  the  Apen- 
nine  range — hills  now  sharply  peaked,  now  gently 
rounded,  either  blending  into  one  another  in  softly 
curving  lines,  or  standing  out  bold  and  well-defined ; 
hills  crowned  by  trees  and  villages,  and  faced  with 
olives,  vines,  and  verdant  fields,  amidst  which  rise 
up  thickly  the  red  tile-roof  dwellings  of  the  peasant, 
and  the  white  glistening  villas  of  the  rich  or  noble 


FLORENTINE    SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS.  105 

Florentine ;  and  hills  which,  as  the  sun  touches  the 
last  period  of  his  long  summer-day  reign,  mark  their 
dark  undulating  outlines  on  a  sky  irradiated  with 
the  most  gorgeous  gold  or  crimson  hues. 

Though  at  all  times  the  Cascine  are  a  favorite  re 
sort  of  the  idle  world,  they  are  especially  so  on  the 
days  when  their  attractions  are  increased  by  the 
performance  of  a  band  ;  on  such  occasions,  particu 
larly  on  a  fcsta,  when  the  shops  are  closed  and 
business  at  a  stand,  the  walks  and  the  broad  drive, 
in  a  certain  portion  of  the  grounds,  are  filled  re 
spectively  with  pedestrians,  riders,  and  carriages. 
As  no  Florentine  of  either  sex  seems  to  dream  of 
walking,  if  either  he  or  she  has  the  means  to  drive, 
a  motley  collection  of  equipages  is  visible,  from  the 
smart  Clarence  of  the  Italian  noble,  with  chasseur* 
outside,  down  to  the  jingling  dog-cart  of  the  John 
Gilpin  class  of  citizen,  and  the  hack,  drafted  for 
the  occasion  from  the  neighboring  stand;  whilst 
mingling  with  these  may  be  seen  troops  of  riders, 
amongst  whom  the  fair-complexioned  English  girl, 
cantering  along  on  her  handsome  and  well-groomed 
steed,  occupies  a  conspicuous  place. 

The  open  space  adjoining  the  spot  where  the  band 
is  stationed,  serves  as  a  halting-place  for  the  throng; 
and  while  humble  pedestrians  press  around  the  mu 
sicians  in  a  circle,  the  occupants  of  carriages  (the 

*  A  chasseur  is  the  name  given  to  an  attendant  wearing  a  plumed  hat 
and  sword  in  the  military  style. 


106  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

latter  drawn  up  side  by  side)  commence  an  inter 
change  of  salutations  with,  their  friends.  The  smart 
Florentine  beau,  with  polished  boots  and  nicely- 
fitting  cream-colored  gloves,  dismounting  from  his 
horse,  makes  his  way  through  the  file  of  vehicles, 
and  seeks  out  those  in  which  he  recognizes  friends. 
Halting  here  and  there  as  he  passes  on,  he  expresses 
his  hope  that  he  sees  the  Marchesa  Capponi  quite 
well — compliments  the  Coutessa  Alberti  on  her  very 
becoming  bonnet — begs  to  present  the  Signora  Bar- 
tolotti  with  a  bouquet  he  has  purchased  from  a 
flower-girl — is  distressed  to  find  that  Signora  Bianca 
is  still  suffering  from  a  cold — and,  after  lamenting 
to  Signora  Massoni  that  his  numerous  engagements 
prevented  him  from  attending  her  last  night's  ball, 
he  exchanges  with  her  the  last  budget  of  fashiona 
ble  news  :  as  edifying  in  its  nature  as  such  an  article 
always  is,  the  wide  world  over. 

Thus  driving,  riding,  talking,  jesting,  quizzing, 
flirting,  time  glides  on ;  the  sun  disappears  behind 
the  hills,  and  the  shades  of  evening  fall :  which, 
deepening  fast,  soon  empty  the  Cascine  of  their  gay 
motley  throng.  The  musicians  take  their  departure, 
and  their  audience  following  the  example,  all  turn 
to  Florence,  leaving  the  Cascine  to  silence,  dark 
ness,  and  solitude  :  and  yet  not  to  darkness  entirely, 
in  that  beautiful  June  evening ;  for  no  sooner  does 
the  night  set  in,  than  under  the  deep  gloom  of  the 
overarching  trees,  are  seen  the  minute  but  brilliant 


FLORENTINE    SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS.  107 

lamps  of  innumerable  fireflies,  rising  and  falling, 
swaying  here  and  there,  and  tracing  multitudinous 
intersecting  lines  of  light  upon  the  darkened  air. 

In  Florence,  several  days  in  the  year  are  particu 
larly  dedicated  to  religious  display  or  to  public 
rejoicing.  On  Ascension-day  it  is  considered  a  kind 
of  pious  obligation  to  make  merry,  and  many  a 
picnic  party  is  formed  to  the  Cascine  on  that  occa 
sion.  The  procession  that  takes  place  on  the  llth 
of  June,  through  cloth-hung  streets,  and  with  flags 
and  banners,  in  honor  of  the  feast  of  the  Corpus 
Domini,  is  characterized  by  great  pomp  and  splen 
dor.  On  the  15th  of  August,  images  of  the  Virgin 
are  dressed  up  with  silks,  ribbons  and  flowers  ;  and 
in  this  ball-room  array  the  Madonna  receives  the 
homage  of  the  faithful ;  who,  still  further  to  pro 
pitiate  her  favor,  salute  her  often  on  such  occasions 
with  musical  performances.  On  the  8th  of  Septem 
ber,  another  tribute  of  popular  devotion  awaits  the 
Virgin ;  for  in  honor  of  the  Nativity,  altars  deco 
rated  with  flowers  arc  erected  in  the  streets,  and 
boys  and  girls,  in  compliance  with  a  time-honored 
custom,  the  origin  of  which  does  not  seem  very 
clear,  carry  about  paper  lanterns  suspended  on  poles. 
A  similarly  mysterious  practice  is  pursued  during 
Lent  also  ;  for  when  half  of  its  six  weeks  has  elapsed, 
the  juvenile  street  population  of  the  town  amuse 
themselves  by  attaching  to  the  dress  of  the  passer-by 
(in  a  clandestine  manner,  if  practicable,)  small 


108  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

pieces  of  paper,  cut  in  the  shape  of  a  ladder,  and 
named  scala,  from  that  circumstance. 

Easter  week  is  distinguished  by  many  peculiar 
observances  and  ceremonies.  On  Maunday  Thurs 
day,  I  was  present  at  the  celebration  of  the  Lavanda 
in  the  Pitti  Palace,  where  I  saw  the  Grand  Duke 
go  through  the  pantomimic  action  (for  it  was  in 
reality  nothing  else)  of  washing  the  feet  of  twelve 
poor  old  men  dressed  in  the  garb  of  pilgrims ;  after 
which,  I  saw  him  again  in  the  afternoon,  as,  in 
grand  state  and  attended  by  his  guard  of  nobles,  he 
visited,  in  accordance  with  established  rules,  seven 
of  the  principal  churches  of  the  town  :  in  whose  in 
terior,  as  well  as  in  churches  of  less  note,  there  is 
invariably  one  altar  decorated  with  all  the  magnifi 
cence  of  which  the  resources  of  each  particular 
church  will  admit.  The  example  thus  set  by  the 
head  of  the  State,  it  is  incumbent  on  every  profess 
ing  Catholic  to  follow ;  and  the  streets  were  crowded 
by  people  hastening  from  church  to  church,  to  get 
over  the  prescribed  number  of  visits  in  a  reasonable 
time.  Though  many  certainly  went  to  pray,  as  was 
evidenced  by  the  numerous  figures  I  saw  kneeling 
before  each  decorated  altar,  curiosity,  as  with  me, 
was  evidently  the  motive  power  with  the  great  ma 
jority  of  the  crowd  that  thronged  the  churches;  and 
very  beautiful  was  the  scene  presented  by  many  of 
their  interiors  to  the  view.  The  church  of  Santa 
Crocc,  in  particular,  was  distinguished  by  a  magnifi- 


FLORENTINE    SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS.  109 

cence  of  decoration  such  as  scarcely  any  description 
could  do  full  justice  to : — hangings  of  gold  and  sil 
ver  brocade,  massive  candelabras  of  precious  metals, 
costly  flowers,  and  innumerable  wax  lights,  alto 
gether  made  up  a  scene  of  gorgeous  splendor  such 
as  I  had  never  previously  witnessed. 

The  Saturday  in  Passion  week  is  distinguished 
by  a  grand  service  in  the  cathedral,  towards  the  end 
of  which,  when  the  choir  begins  to  sing  the  "  Gloria 
in  Excelsis,"  a  discharge  of  fireworks  takes  place 
from  a  huge  kind  of  chariot  stationed  at  the  door. 
On  this  occurrence,  guns  are  fired,  and  the  bells  of 
the  city,  which  have  been  silent  from  the  preceding 
Thursday,  ring  out  a  joyous  peal :  whilst  from  the 
same  hour  the  church  clocks,  which  have  been  con 
strained  to  observe  silence  for  the  same  period  of 
time,  are  restored  to  the  exercise  of  their  suspended 
faculties  of  sound. 

But  of  all  the  days  set  apart  for  religious  or  pub 
lic  festivities  in  Florence,  the  feast  day  of  St.  John 
the  Baptist  (San  Giovanni),  the  patron  saint  of  the 
Florentines,  which  falls  on  the  24th  of  June,  is  dis 
tinguished  beyond  all  others  by  splendor  and  variety 
of  ceremonial  observances ;  chariot  races,  horse 
races,  music,  fireworks,  and  illuminations,  all  com 
bining  to  confer  (as  supposed)  honor  on  the  saint, 
and  to  give  (most  unquestionably)  interest  to  the 
scene. 

The  preparations  for  these  festivities  commence 


110  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

some  time  before  the  period  fixed  on  for  their  taking 
place.  The  erection  of  a  huge  wooden  scaffold  on 
the  Ponte  alia  Carraja,  for  the  display  of  fireworks, 
puts  a  stop,  first,  to  the  transit  of  carriages,  and 
finally  to  that  of  pedestrians,  across  it.  In  the 
Piazza  Santa  Maria  Novella,  there  rises,  amidst  the 
sound  of  hammer  and  saw,  a  great  amphitheatre  of 
seats,  for  the  accommodation  of  such  persons  as  are 
desirous  of  witnessing  the  chariot  races,  (races  of  the 
cocchij  as  they  are  termed,)  which  take  place  in  this 
square.  In  other  parts  of  Florence  other  seats  also 
are  erected,  for  the  purpose  of  affording  a  view  of 
the  horse  races,  the  scene  of  which  lies  alone:  the 

'  O 

central  streets  of  the  town.  Long  before  the  24th 
of  June,  signs  may  be  discerned  of  the  approach  of 
the  festivities  in  honor  of  San  Giovanni,  the  revered 
protector  of  the  town. 

The  chariot  races  afford  a  sight  characterized  by 
beauty  and  absurdity  in  about  equal  proportions. 
The  Piazza  Santa  Maria  Novella,  though  irregular 
in  form,  is  one  of  the  largest  and  finest  squares  in 
Florence,  and  when  in  the  amphitheatre  of  seats 
erected  around  the  course,  not  one  place  was  to  be 
seen  unoccupied — when  from  the  gay  state  pavilion 
occupied  by  the  Grand  Duke  and  Duchess,  the 
English  ambassador,  and  the  principal  personages 
of  the  Tuscan  Court,  the  eye,  rising  upwards  over 
tier  above  tier  of  human  faces,  passed  on  still  up 
wards  to  row  after  row  of  windows  with  crimson 


FLORENTINE    SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS.  Ill 

hangings  and  crowded  with,  spectators — when  all 
this  pomp  and  show,  this  animated  scene  of  human 
life,  was  witnessed  under  the  influence  of  an  un 
clouded  sky  and  a  bright  June  sun,  the  effect  was 
eminently  imposing  and  beautiful. 

But  what  power  of  words  can  do  justice  to  the 
absurdity  of  the  races,  for  which  all  this  preparation 
had  been  made  ;  for  which  windows  had  been  hung 
with  glowing  draperies,  seats  erected  by  the  thou 
sand,  and  at  which  royalty  in  state  presided.  How 
often  through  life  is  it  forced  upon  the  mind,  that 
man,  though  attaining  outwardly  by  grey  hairs  to 
the  age  of  wisdom,  yet  never  attains  to  the  age  of 
discretion,  in  reality — a  fact  signally  exemplified  in 
this  instance ;  for  however  judicious  it  may  be  for 
matured  mankind  occasionally  to  accept  pleasure 
when  it  comes,  without  entering  into  a  strict  inves 
tigation  as  to  the  dignity  of  its  origin,  yet  to  invest 
a  something  essentially  trivial  and  ephemeral  (as 
were  these  races)  with  an  outward  show  of  pomp 
and  splendor,  to  expend  time  and  money  in  minis 
tering  to  the  grandeur  of  an  imbecility,  are  acts 
that  involve  a  degree  of  intellectual  development 
belonging  only  to  the  age  of  dolls,  hoops,  tops,  and 
hobby-horses. 

A  few  words  will  suffice  to  give  a  description  of 
the  races  of  the  cocchi,  by  which  San  Giovanni  is 
honored  in  Florence.  To  most  persons,  the  form  of 
the  ancient  Roman  chariot,  guided  by  a  standing 


112  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

charioteer,  has  been  made  familiar  through  the  me 
dium  of  prints ;  of  the  same  shape  are  the  Floren 
tine  cocchi ;  and,  saving  that  they  are  constructed 
with  four  wheels,  they  are  fashioned  in  close  imi 
tation  of  the  old  Eoman  car.  Behold,  now,  five  of 
these  eocchi,  drawn  by  two  horses  each,  guided  by  a 
standing  charioteer  attired  in  a  classically-shaped 
floating  tunic,  differing  in  color  from  the  others. 
Ranged  together  side  by  side  in  the  middle  of  the 
Piazza,  in  the  centre  of  that  imposing-looking  am 
phitheatre,  their  drivers  await,  in  Phoebus-like  atti 
tudes,  the  signal  for  starting.  It  is  given,  and  on 
the  instant  down  falls  the  lash,  and  off  start  the 
horses  at  a  gallop,  dragging,  apparently  with  diffi 
culty,  the  low  and  lumbering  cars  behind  them. 
One  circle  of  the  Piazza  is  made,  and  the  Apollo  in 
pink  is  first ;  another  round,  and  the  Mars  in  red 
has  attained  the  foremost  position,  and,  keeping  up 
the  advantage  he  has  gained,  at  the  third  circuit  lie 
comes  in  victorious.  A  gun  is  fired,  and  the  spec 
tators  leave  their  seats  ;  for  the  races  of  the  cocchi, 
which  have  lasted  a  space  of  about  three  minutes  in 
duration,  are  ended. 

The  races  of  the  Barberi,  which  take  place  also  in 
honor  of  the  feast  of  St.  John,  though  widely  dif 
fering  in  nature  from  the  races  of  the  cocchi,  are 
equally  peculiar  in  character.  The  race-course  is 
formed  by  a  long  line  of  streets  running  through 
the  centre  of  the  town,  from  one  gate  to  another, 


FLORENTINE    SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS.  113 

and  the  racers  are  riderless  horses.  All  along  the 
line  of  streets  the  windows  are  hung  with  crimson 
drapery,  and  soldiers,  ranged  in  single  file  on  either 
side,  keep  the  horses  in  the  course  prescribed,  and 
keep  it  also  clear  for  the  performances.  Racing  in 
the  English  fashion  is  far  from  being  to  me  a  pleas 
urable  exhibition,  and  from  what  I  once  felt  on 
seeing  the  lash  descend  with  merciless  force  on  the 
bleeding  sides  of  panting,  striving  animals,  I  do  not 
desire  ever  again  to  be  a  spectator  of  another  Eng 
lish  race.  In  point  of  humanity,  however,  the 
Italian  races  are  equally  obnoxious  to  censure ;  for 
though  the  feelings  are  spared  the  sight  of  the  ac 
tion  of  the  jockey's  whip  and  spurs,  the  pain  inflict 
ed  is  probably  even  less  than  that  resulting  from  the 
artful  device  by  which  Italian  horses  (riderless  as 
they  be)  are  stimulated  to  action.  To  the  eye,  the 
small  circular  pieces  of  leather,  or  metal,  which  flap 
up  and  down  on  the  back  and  sides  of  the  Italian 
race-horse,  might,  naturally  enough,  be  looked  on 
in  the  light  of  merely  ornamental  appendages.  But 
far  otherwise  is  the  case  in  reality — for  every  one  of 
these  small  flappers  has  a  sharp  spike  in  its  centre, 
that  pricks  the  horse  at  every  step  he  takes  ;  and 
the  faster  the  poor  animal  gallops,  under  the  torture 
of  these  self-acting  goads,  the  greater  becomes  the 
stimulus  of  pain  to  urge  him  on  his  course,  from  the 
added  force  given  by  every  increase  of  speed  to  each 

flapping  point.     Recurring  in  memory  to  the  races 

8 


114  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

of  the  Barberi  I  witnessed  in  Florence,  at  the  feast 
of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  there  rises  up  before  me  the 
vivid  picture  of  a  long  line  of  crowded  streets,  of 
crimson-hung  windows,  of  tiers  here  and  there  of 
well-filled  seats,  and  of  horses  covered  with  flapping 
goads,  rushing  by  at  a  rapid  pace. 

But  another  picture,  infinitely  more  beautiful  and 
agreeable,  rises  up  before  my  view  in  connection 
with  the  midsummer  festivities  in  honor  of  San  Gio 
vanni.  Vividly  do  I  recall  that  beautiful  evening  in 
June,  when,  standing  by  the  river's  side,  I  saw  as 
it  were  the  realization  of  a  scene  of  fairy  land.  In 
the  center  of  the  Ponte  alia  Carraja — where  a  hide 
ous  wooden  scaffold,  a  formless,  unmeaning-looking 
thing  of  planks  and  beams,  had  affronted  the  eye 
by  the  light  of  day — there,  in  that  same  spot,  shone 
forth  a  radiant  palace,  fit  to  be  the  habitation  of 
genii.  Up  rose  the  whirring  rocket  into  the  air, 
marking  its  course  across  the  dark  vault  above  with 
a  fiery  trail,  and  perishing  in  a  gushing  shower  of 
stars  of  the  most  glowing  colors ;  round  spun  the 
wheels  of  glittering  light,  sending  forth  continuous 
jets  of  dazzling  sparks,  like  spray  from  a  fiery  foun 
tain  ;  whilst  along  the  Arno,  at  either  side,  down  to 
the  Ponte  di  Santat  Trinita,  extended  close  to  the 
water's  edge  long  lines  of  lamps,  whose  mellow  lus 
tre  was  reflected  in  the  stream  beneath ;  and  the 
river  itself,  from  one  bank  to  the  other,  was  studded 
over  with  illuminated  boats,  showing,  like  isles  of 


FLORENTINE    SCENES   AND   AMUSEMENTS.  115 

light,  every  here  and  there,  from  its  dark  surface. 
Clearly  as  at  noonday  could  one  see  the  eager  faces 
of  the  crowd  around  them ;  and  the  stars  of  heaven 
looked  dull,  and  dim,  and  pale,  by  contrast  with 
that  glittering  pageant. 

There  was  no  sleep  that  night  for  many.  Crowds 
filled  the  streets  till  break  of  day,  passing  from 
place  to  place,  to  admire  the  beauty  of  the  lamp-lit 
cathedral  dome,  the  radiant  glories  of  the  tall  tower 
of  the  Palazzo  Yecchia,  and  to  listen  to  the  inspir 
iting  strains  of  numerous  bands,  stationed  here  and 
there,  throughout  the  city ;  and  not  till  the  dawn  of 
day  crept  up  the  sky  were  the  tones  of  music  hushed, 
and  the  wanderings  of  the  pleasure-seekers  ended. 


CHAPTER  YI. 

SOCIETY. 

HE  name  of  Italy  lias  for  the  edu 
cated  world  a  kind  of  magic  sound. 
Its  glory,  grandeur,  and  mightof  old, 
joined  to  its  more  modern  triumphs 
in  the  arts  of  the  poet,  painter,  sculptor  and 
musician,  give  it  a  foremost  position  in  the 
sympathies  of  every  cultivated  mind.  In  no 
small  degree,  certainly,  does  England  feel  the 
spell  which  departed  greatness,  and  the  deathless 
triumphs  of  genius,  have  thrown  around  the  coun 
try  of  Brutus,  Cicero,  Dante,  Columbus,  Raphael, 
Michel  Angelo,  and  Galileo.  By  the  English  stran 
ger  who  first  treads  the  classic  shores  of  Italy,  'the 
history  of  which  is  intertwined  with  the  remem 
brances  of  his  early  years  —  whose  residence  is 
adorned  perhaps  by  the  grand  creations  of  Italian 
art,  who  owes  many  a  delightful  hour  to  Rossini's 
or  Bellini's  harmonious  strains — by  such  a  one  Italy 


SOCIETY.  117 

and  the  Italians,  the  country  and  its  people,  will 
naturally  be  viewed  through  a  medium  of  the  most 
favorable  kind.  Short,  however,  is  the  duration  of 
the  bright  picture  painted  by  the  imagination,  when 
the  realities  of  Italian  life  are  brought  before  the 
eyes  of  those  who  respect  and  cherish  the  virtues  of 
domestic  life,  and  believe  that  existence  presents 
some  higher,  nobler  object  of  pursuit  than  that  of 
pleasure. 

]STot  more  do  Italy  and  England  differ  in  their 
outward  aspects  than  in  their  inward  states  or  ex 
istence.  Strongly  as  the  bright  blue  summer  skies, 
the  olives,  the  maize,  the  vines  of  Italy  contrast 
with  the  lowering  clouds  and  less  luxuriant  and 
varied  vegetation  of  our  colder  clime ;  the  contrast 
that  exists  in  all  that  concerns  the  domestic  life  of 
the  two  nations  is  far  greater.  From  the  earliest 

O 

to  the  last  moment  of  existence,  influences,  entirely 
different  in  their  nature,  are  at  work,  moulding  the 
characters  and  shaping  the  destinies  of  the  inhabit 
ants  of  Italy  and  England.  In  the  different  aspects 
presented  by  these  two  countries  at  the  present  day 
-England,  rich,  powerful,  triumphant  and  free  — 
Italy,  poor,  weak,  oppressed,  enslaved — in  the  wide 
distinction  that  thus  prevails,  it  needs  no  penetra 
tion  to  discover  which  class  of  influences,  affecting 
the  formation  of  the  national  character  in  either 
country,  is  the  best. 

"  Love,  music  and  poetry,  is  the  life  of  an  Italian," 


118  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

exclaimed,  one  day  in  my  presence,  a  young  Flor 
entine  gentleman.  Unfortunately  for  Italy,  the  ob 
servation  was  too  true :  Italian  youths,  epicureans 
in  theory  and  practice,  too  often  fritter  away  their 
time  and  energies  in  the  pursuit  of  mere  enjoyment ; 
and  too  often,  through  the  means  of  a  vicious  career 
of  self-indulgence,  their  natural  capacity  for  good 
is  well  nigh  extinguished,  if  not  wholly  destroyed. 
Early  in  life  the  frivolous  tone  of  Italian  society 
exerts  its  enervating  influence  over  the  youthful 
mind.  Few  arc  the  youths  belonging  to  the  upper 
and  middle  classes  of  society  in  Italy,  who  resolutely 
set  themselves  to  achieve  an  honorable  independence. 
Clinging  to  their  kindred  for  support,  necessity 
alone  drives  them  to  exercise  their  energies  for  the 
purpose  of  acquiring  the  means  of  subsistence.  The 
idlers  can  be  counted  by  tens,  the  workers  by  units. 
The  tone  of  thought  which  ruled  society  in  Tuscany 
in  the  days  of  the  Medici  is  extinguished  utterly ; 
for  industry  now  is  looked  upon  as  vulgar,  and  idle 
ness  as  genteel.  The  lad  of  fifteen  apes  the  man — 
apes  him  in  the  levities,  and  too  often  the  vices  of 
his  career :  the  youth  of  twenty  is  thoroughly  a  man 
of  the  world,  intimately  acquainted  with  the  world's 
worst  features.  Frivolities  become  the  serious  duties 
of  his  existence :  he  sings — he  dances — he  gossips — 
he  flirts — as  if  life  were  given  him  for  no  higher  aims 
and  occupation.  So  long  as  he  can  find  the  means 
to  buy  light  kid  gloves,  attend  the  opera,  and  pay 


SOCIETY.  119 

his  cafd  bill,  he  lives  on,  contented  with  his  position  ; 
his  future  troubles  him  not,  so  long  as  his  present 
wears  an  agreeable  aspect.  "  Vive  la  bagatelle"  is  his 
cry  :  "  life  is  short,  let  us  enjoy  it  whilst  we  may ;  " 
and,  acting  upon  this  creed,  youth  vanishes  in  a 
round  of  folly — in  a  whirl  of  excitement,  that  can 
not  but  be  as  destructive  to  the  moral  principle  as 
it  is  inimical  to  the  development  of  all  the  higher 
faculties  of  the  mind. 

But  whilst  thus  characterizing  the  youth  of  Italy 
as  a  class,  it  would  be  unfair  to  deny  that  there  ex 
ist  many  exceptions  to  this  rule.  Doubtless,  amongst 
the  young  men  of  Italy  there  are  to  be  found  many 
to  whom  patriotism  supplies  a  motive  to  exertion 
and  an  object  in  which  they  worthily  invest  their 
sympathies.  But  whilst  admitting  this,  it  must  be 
owned  that,  if  credit  is  to  be  given  to  the  words  of 
Italians  themselves,  there  is  but  a  small  amount  of 
singleness  of  purpose,  unselfishness  of  endeavor,  and 
honesty  of  action,  to  be  found  amongst  the  ranks  of 
the  upper  classes  of  their  countrymen.  It  was  a 
melancholy  thing  to  me  to  hear  the  strictures  passed 
by  Italians  upon  themselves.  Distrust  seemed  to 
me  to  be  widely  prevalent ;  each  man  appearing  to 
suspect  his  neighbor  of  being  actuated  by  merely 
selfish  aims.  In  Rome  and  Naples  I  have  heard 
Italians  lament  their  unfitness  as  a  nation  for  free  in 
stitutions,  from  the  low  moral  tone  existing  amongst 
themselves.  "  Siamo  troppo  cativi"  (we  are  too  wick- 


120  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

ed)  for  free  institutions,  said  to  me  a  Roman  gentle 
man  belonging  to  the  anti-papal  party ;  and  this  is 
the  opinion  of  many  a  one  in  various  parts  of  Italy. 
In  Tuscany  this  feeling  contributes  more  to  the  sta 
bility  of  the  hated  government  of  the  Grand  Duke 
than  the  army  of  Austrians  he  has  at  his  command. 
Anarchy  seems  to  be  more  dreaded  than  despotism  ; 
and  the  caprices  of  tyranny  appear  to  be  looked 
upon  as  more  endurable  than  the  license  of  a  mob. 

In  truth,  the  republican  drama  recently  enacted 
in  Tuscany  was  little  creditable  to  the  inhabitants 
of  that  land.  Those  times  were  certainly  not  to  be 
boasted  of,  when  hydra-headed  tyranny  under  the 
name  of  liberty  stalked  abroad :  and  judging  from 
what  I  heard,  the  closing  scenes  of  the  revolution 
resembled  in  character  those  exhibited  throughout 
its  course. 

"  The  concluding  days  of  our  revolution  were  truly 
disgraceful  ones,"  observed  a  lady,  whose  husband 
had  taken  a  prominent  part  in  the  proceedings  of 
the  time.  "  It  was  really  pitiable  to  see  the  way  in 
which  many  of  our  most  prominent  liberals  deserted 
their  ranks  through  the  influence  of  gold  or  fear.  I 
was  in  Sienna  when  the  news  of  the  reaction  in 
Florence  arrived.  The  mob  in  the  streets  began  to 
hurrah  for  the  Grand  Duke.  On  hearing  this,  I  saw 
the  chief  man  of  our  party  in  the  town  turn  pale  as 
death,  and  tremble  like  a  child.  <  What  must  I  do  ?' 
he  faltered  out.  '  Stick  true  to  your  colors  and  prin- 


SOCIETY.  121 

ciples/  I  replied ;  '  I,  though  a  woman,  would  scorn 
to  do  less.'  "Vain  words!  A  few  minutes  had  not 
passed  before  he  was  shouting  for  Leopold,  with  the 
Ducal  colors  attached  to  his  dress.  Gold,  too,  did 
its  work.  Few  were  found  like  my  husband  to  re 
fuse  the  proffered  bribe  :  republican  patriots  became 
transformed  into  Ducal  partizans  in  a  few  hours' 
time." 

"  Our  present  Government  is  certainly  a  bad  one," 
said  a  liberal  Florentine  merchant  to  me ;  "  but  our 
republican  rule  was  far  w^orse.  Liberty  existed  with 
us  but  in  name.  Florence  was  tyrannized  over  by 
a  mob,  each  individual  of  which  aspired  to  be  king. 
Neither  property  nor  life  was  safe,  and  trade  was 
annihilated  by  the  general  feeling  of  insecurity  that 
prevailed."  u  We  were  bought  and  sold,"  say  the 
lower  classes  of  the  people.  "  For  the  sake  of  gold 
our  leaders  deserted  their  colors  and  us."  Of  a  simi 
lar  purport  were  many  of  the  observations  I  heard 
during  my  residence  in  Tuscany. 

It  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  defects  of  character, 
attributable  to  the  Italians  of  the  upper  and  middle 
classes  of  society,  spring  in  a  considerable  degree 
from  the  despotic  form  of  government  to  which  they 
are  subjected.  The  energies  of  the  human  mind 
cannot  be  altogether  repressed ;  if  denied  vent  in  a 
useful,  rational  way,  they  will  make  for  themselves 
an  outlet  of  a  widely  different  character.  The  fer 
tilizing  river,  whose  onward  course  between  its 


122  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

banks  is  checked  by  a  strong  dyke,  will  lay  waste 
the  land  around  in  unwholesome  marshes.  AVhat 
the  dyke  is  to  the  stream,  despotic  institutions  are 
to  the  character.  Liberty  of  speech  and  action  de 
nied,  legitimate  objects  of  ambition  refused,  mental 
activity  looked  upon  with  suspicion  and  discouraged, 
it  is  only  a  natural  consequence  that  the  innate 
energy  of  the  Italian  character  should  exhibit  itself 
in  an  unworthy  manner.  Under  other  influences, 
it  may  be  that  the  Italian  sensualist,  adventurer 
and  gambler  of  the  present  day,  would  show  himself 
a  worthy  citizen,  an  unselfish  patriot,  and  a  true 
benefactor  to  his  country. 

But,  injurious  as  is  undoubtedly  the  influence  of 
Italian  government  on  Italian  character,  the  faulty 
social  code  of  Italy  is  chargeable  with  the  evil,  in  a 
still  greater  degree  :  indeed,  it  may  be  questioned  if 
this  source  is  not  in  itself  the  parent  of  all  the  evils 
under  which  Italy  groans ;  for  tyranny  and  tyrants 
are  only  the  outward  symptoms  of  a  disease  that 
has  struck  its  roots  in  the  homes  of  the  land.  When 
one  man  subjects  many  to  his  tyrannic  sway,  the 
many  must  be  in  fault.  An  army  is  counted  but 
by  thousands,  a  people  by  millions;  and  there  is  no 
power  in  parks  of  artillery,  or  in  military  tactics,  to 
put  or  keep  a  nation  down,  when  that  nation, 
wrorthy  of  liberty,  determines  to  be  free.  Search 
the  annals  of  history,  and  it  will  reveal  that  the 
public  life  of  a  nation  is  in  a  great  degree  the  re- 


SOCIETY.  123 

flex  of  its  private  one.  "With  purity  of  morals  will 
be  found  associated  national  independence,  wealth 
and  power;  with  corruption  of  morals,  tyranny, 
weakness  and  poverty.  If  we  would  trace  the 
source  of  oppression  of  millions  subjected  to  tyran 
ny,  or  writhing  impotently  under  the  oppressor's 
grasp,  we  must  look  into  their  homes  and  raise  up 
the  veil  that  hangs  over  private  life ;  observe  the 
mother,  contemplate  the  wife,  and  watch  the  young 
girl  as  she  springs  up  from  infancy  to  maturity. 

It  is  an  observation  justified  by  experience,  that 
children  ordinarily  inherit  their  mental  and  moral 
qualities  from  their  mother.  In  the  biographies  of 
great  men  this  fact  is  evidenced  in  a  very  striking 
manner,  and  proves  how  essential  to  the  welfare  and 
greatness  of  any  state  is  the  development  of  the 
mental  and  moral  faculties  of  woman.  By  thus  or 
daining  that  children  shall  resemble  their  mother 
in  mental  and  moral  constitution,  Providence  seems 
visibly  to  interpose  in  behalf  of  the  weaker  sex,  and 
to  claim  for  them  respect,  education  and  considera 
tion  ;  for  practically  does  it  say,  through  this  means, 
to  men,  "  If  you  desire  that  your  sons  should  be 
clever,  wise  and  good,  develop  as  much  as  possible 
those  qualities  in  woman."  Unheeded,  however,  for 
the  most  part,  does  that  voice  speak  to  mankind ; 
and  throughout  the  east,  where  woman  is  looked 
upon  either  in  the  light  of  a  toy  or  a  slave,  one  sees 
how  terribly  the  injuries  of  the  inmates  of  the  ha- 


124  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

rem  and  the  zenana  have  been  avenged.  Ignorant, 
oppressed  and  weak,  the  women  of  the  east  have 
entailed  the  curses  of  ignorance,  weakness  and  op 
pression  on  the  nations  to  which  they  belong. 

To  any  one  who  mixes  in  the  slightest  degree  in 
Italian  society,  or  converses  with  the  inhabitants  of 
different  grades  in  Italy,  it  will  soon  become  very 
apparent  that  domestic  life  in  that  country  partakes 
in  its  essential  elements  of  the  oriental  type.  Though 
not  secluded  in  the  interior  of  her  house,  or  veiled 
and  muffled  up  when  she  goes  out  to  wralk  or  drive, 
the  Italian  lady  has  but  little  real  liberty  of  action ; 
and  in  all  that  concerns  the  practical  affairs  and 
most  important  interests  of  life,  she  may  be  looked 
upon  as  a  mere  cipher,  or  a  complete  nonentity. 
Should  we  examine  her  position  in  the  various 
stages  of  her  history,  as  girl,  wife,  mother,  or  pos 
sibly  widow,  we  should  find  her  constrained  and 
fettered  to  a  degree  that  seems  inconsistent  with 
the  fact  of  her  possessing  the  attributes  of  a  rational 
being. 

Nothing  exercises  so  baneful  an  effect  upon  the 
character  as  the  destruction  of  self-respect.  A  des 
pised  race  will  almost  invariably  exhibit  despicable 
qualities.  The  evidence  of  mistrust  has  a  tendency 
to  evoke  the  evil  propensities  of  human  nature,  and 
errors  harden  often  into  sin  and  guilt,  if  society  puts 
its  ban  upon  the  offender.  As  with  the  moral,  so 
with  the  mental  qualities.  Call  a  man  a  villain  or 


SOCIETY.  125 

a  fool,  and  deal  with  him  habitually  as  such,  and 
he  will  not  unlikely  prove  himself  deserving  of  the 
epithet  you  give  him.  In  like  manner,  if  women 
as  a  class  are  looked  upon  with  contempt,  and  are 
treated  as  beings  unfit  for  self-guidance  and  self- 
government,  they  will  be  found  acting  in  accordance 
with  their  imputed  characters.  If  an  English  wo 
man  is  superior  to  an  Italian  woman,  in  mental 
faculties  and  moral  qualities,  the  fault  lies  not  with 
nature,  but  is  traceable  to  that  erring  code  of  cus 
toms  and  opinion  which  treats  the  latter  as  if  she 
were  a  being  from  whom  the  great  gift  of  reason 
had  been  withheld.  The  hobbling  gait  of  the  Chi 
nese  woman  is  not  a  more  artificial  product  than  are 
the  weakness,  vanity,  frivolity  and  immorality 
which  stain  the  character  of  the  women  of  Italy  of 
the  present  day. 

The  contrast  between  the  position  of  an  English 
and  Italian  widow  is  a  striking  one.  The  former, 
recognized  by  English  society  as  an  independent 
existence,  may  even,  though  young,  live  where  she 
pleases,  and  spend  her  jointure  according  to  her 
taste.  She  may  travel ;  she  may  live  in  town  or 
country,  as  her  choice  suggests :  no  one  has  the 
power  to  control  her,  to  regulate  the  expen'diture  of 
her  income,  to  dictate  to  her  what  she  may  and  may 
not  do.  But  with  the  Italian  widow  the  case  is 
often  widely  different ;  and  not  seldom  is  she  sub 
jected  to  a  thraldom  of  the  most  grievous  kind. 


126  LIFE    IN   TUSCANY. 

"My  life  is  a  burden  to  me,"  said  a  young  Flo 
rentine  widow  to  me,  despairingly  one  day. 

"Why  so?"  Tasked. 

"Oh,   Signer  Carlo  is  so  cross  and  unkind;   he 
checks  and  thwarts  me  in  every  way,"  was  the  reply. 

"And  who  is  Signer  Carlo,  and  what  right  has  he 
to  interfere  with  you?"  I  returned. 

"Oh,  Signer  Carlo  is  a  priest,  whom  my  husband 
made  a  guardian  over  me,  and  entrusted  with  the 
management  of  my  jointure  and  my  affairs.  Oh,  it 
is  really  too  insufferable  !  "  she  continued  passion 
ately.  "  Scarcely  an  evening  passes  that  he  does 
not  come  to  make  a  note  of  my  day's  expenditure ; 
and  then,  if  he  finds  that  I  have  exceeded  the  ordi 
nary  amount  by  even  a  couple  of  pauls,  he  knits  his 
brows,  and  tells  me  that  this  must  not  occur  again. 
And  if  he  sees  a  nice  blazing  fire  in  the  grate,  he 
rebukes  me  for  my  extravagance.  <  Signora  Teresa, 
you  must  not  do  this,  and  you  must  not  do  that,'  he 
keeps  on  saying,  till  I  cry  with  downright  vexation. 
Then,  too,  if  I  want  a  new  bonnet  or  a  new  dress, 
I  have  to  beg  and  beg  innumerable  times  before  I 
can  get  the  money  to  purchase  it.  It  is  too  bad  - 
indeed,  it  is  —  the  way  he  acts;  treating  me  like  a 
child,  though  a  woman  of  upwards  of  thirty  years 
of  age.  It  is  intolerable  to  be  kept  in  this  subjec 
tion.  I  would  to  Heaven  I  were  an  Englishwoman  ! " 

"  But  why  do  you  permit  Signer  Carlo  to  keep 


SOCIETY.  127 

all  your  money  in  his  hands,  and  to  annoy  you  by 
his  constant  presence  and  interference?" 

"Cam  mia"  she  rejoined,  "how  can  I  help  it, 
since  my  husband  willed  that  I  should  get  my  in 
come  solely  through  Signer  Carlo's  hands  ?  And 
that  is  not  the  worst  of  my  lot  either,"  she  contin 
ued ;  "that  might  be  borne;  but  it  is  intolerable 
that  Signor  Carlo  should  be  a  spy  on  all  my  actions, 
keeping  a  constant  watch  on  all  I  do." 

"  Why  permit  him  ?  Why  not  tell  him  you  will 
act  as  you  choose?" 

"  I  wish  I  could  ;  but  he  has  me  completely  in 
his  power,  for  by  my  husband's  will  my  jointure  is 
to  be  transferred  to  a  member  of  his  family  if  I  do 
not  show  I  am  a  buona  vedova,*  and  exhibit  the  most 
perfect  discretion  of  conduct." 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  Signor  Carlo  is  to  be 
your  judge  in  this  particular  ?  " 

"Yes;  and  he  is  perpetually  on  the  watch  to  see 
if  I  have  got  a  lover.  He  thinks  himself  very  cun 
ning,  I  am  sure ;  but  sharp-eyed  as  he  is,  he  has 
never  yet  discovered  that  Beppo  comes  here." 

"  WhoisBeppo?" 

"A  young  officer,  a  noble  of  Pisa,  to  whom  I  am 
engaged.  Unfortunately  he  is  too  poor  to  marry 
yet,  and  so  we  must  wait  until  he  gets  his  next  step, 
which  will  give  him  additional  pay." 

*  Good  widow. 


128  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

"You  lose  your  jointure,  then,  if  you  marry,  I 
suppose  ? " 

"  Yes,  certainly ;  or  if  my  engagement  to  do  so 
be  known.  It  is  really  droll  to  think  of  the  way 
that  Beppo  has  to  be  smuggled  off  when  Signor 
Carlo  arrives  unexpectedly." 

"  You  will  be  glad  when  this  thraldom  is  at  an 
end?" 

"  If  it  were  not  for  that  prospect,  I  would  not 
live,"  she  exclaimed ;  "  or  at  least  not  live  on  in  the 
way  I  do.  If  it  were  not  for  Beppo,  I  should  do 
something  desperate,  I  am  sure." 

In  the  character  of  this  lady  I  saw  a  striking 
illustration  of  the  evil  effects  that  flow  from  the 
restraints  imposed  upon  her  sex  in  Italy.  Scarcely 
emerged  from  childhood,  she,  in  obedience  to  her 
mother's  orders,  became  the  wife  of  a  man  she  did 
not  love,  and  who  was  in  point  of  age  considerably 
her  senior.  Sadly  did  the  years  of  her  married  life 
pass  by.  Without  children,  without  household  du 
ties  (for  her  husband  regulated  all  domestic  affairs), 
without  an  education  that  would  have  given  her 
resources  of  enjoyment  in  herself,  she  could  only 
look  to  society  for  happiness,  for  the  means  of  filling 
up  in  any  way  the  vacuum  in  her  existence ;  and 
from  this  sole  resource  she  wras  excluded  by  the  de 
cree  of  a  jealous  husband.  As  daughter  first,  as 
wife  subsequently  —  watched,  guarded,  mistrusted, 
deprived  of  liberty  of  choice  and  action,  in  despite 


SOCIETY.  129 

of  no  mean  natural  endowments  of  heart  and  mind 
— time  found  her  a  widow  of  thirty  years  of  age, 
in  point  of  judgment,  thought  and  feeling  —  a  per 
fect  child. 

Although  every  widow  lady  in  Italy  may  not 
have  the  misfortune  to  he  under  the  rule  of  a  Signor 
Carlo,  it  seemed  to  me,  from  what  I  heard,  that  the 
practice  was  general  on  the  part  of  a  dying  husband 
to  invest  some  one  with  the  control  over  the  man 
agement  of  the  pecuniary  affairs  of  his  widow.  In 
deed,  in  many  cases  this  might  prove  a  wise  provis 
ion  for  her  welfare :  for  from  the  effects  of  the  sys 
tem  of  tutelage  under  which  the  Italian  wife  has 
lived,  she  is  so  destitute  of  prudence  and  forethought 
—so  much  the  slave  of  impulse,  so  passionately  fond 
of  dress — that  with  her  income  as  a  widow  at  her 
own  disposal,  she  is  capable  of  spending  in  a  week, 
on  the  merest  fripperies  of  fashion,  the  whole  amount 
of  her  annual  income.  Signora  Teresa  was  no  ex 
ception  to  this  rule  :  she  acknowledged  that  she  was 
dreadfully  extravagant.  The  number  of  bonnets 
and  dresses  she  possessed  was  absolutely  startling ; 
and  nearly  all  the  very  small  amount  of  pocket- 
money  allowed  to  her  by  Signor  Carlo  was  expended 
in  the  purchase  of  lottery  tickets. 

In  a  country  where  the  intellectual  faculties  of 
women  are  rated  at  a  very  low  degree,  it  may  read 
ily  be  believed  that  education  is  a  matter  but  little 

attended  to.     Thus  error  tends  ever  to  its  self-per- 
9 


130  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

petuation.  The  weak  and  ignorant  girl  merges  into 
the  weak  and  ignorant  mother,  and  not  feeling  her 
deficiencies,  goes  on  in  the  old  beaten  track ;  which 
results  in  daughters  as  weak  and  ignorant  as  she  is 
herself.  So  one  generation  of  women  follows  an 
other,  impressed  with  the  belief  that  the  chief  merit 
of  their  sex  is  to  look  handsome,  and  their  chief 
duty  to  be  well  dressed.  The  course  of  instruction 
for  girls  in  the  upper  and  middle  classes  of  society 
in  Italy  is  of  the  flimsiest  character:  nothing  is 
taught  of  a  nature  calculated  to  develop  their  men 
tal  faculties.  Beneath  the  thin  varnish  of  accom 
plishments  that  an  Italian  lady  possesses,  the  most 
dense  ignorance  of  the  ordinary  branches  of  knowl 
edge  may  be  found.  I  was  intimately  acquainted 
with  two  young  ladies  in  Florence,  who  were  well 
educated,  according  to  the  Italian  idea  of  that  term  ; 
for  they  could  play  the  piano  tolerably  well,  speak 
French  imperfectly,  and  could  say  "  Good-morning," 
and  "  Good-night,"  and  half  a  dozen  more  equally 
elaborate  sentences  in  the  English  language.  But 
with  these  accomplishments,  of  which  they  were 
extremely  proud,  neither  of  them  could  write  with 
out  lines,  or  in  any  other  than  a  child's  large, 
ill-formed  characters;  history  they  were  ignorant 
of;  and  the  profundity  of  their  ignorance  of  geog 
raphy  may  be  imagined  from  the  fact,  that  neither 
of  them  knew  of  the  existence  of  the  celebrated 
Italian  Lake  of  Como.  Geographical  knowledge 


SOCIETY.  131 

would  seem,  indeed,  from  the  results  of  my  experi 
ence,  to  be  classed  somewhat  among  the  unfeminine 
branches  of  learning  in  Italy.  "  Which  is  the  far 
thest  off,  London  or  America  ? "  asked  a  lively 
Florentine  lady  of  me  one  day.  I  gave  her  the  de 
sired  information,  with  a  secret  wonder  at  the  igno 
rance  the  question  implied  ;  but  greater  grew  my 
wonder,  and  severe  was  the  test  to  which  my  gravity 
was  put,  when,  after  a  few  moments  of  apparent 
meditation,  she  exclaimed — "  What  a  very  large 
city  America  must  be  !  " 

At  a  very  early  period  of  my  residence  in  Tus 
cany,  the  mockery  of  the  miscalled  system  of  fem 
inine  education  in  Italy  became  to  me  most  strik 
ingly  apparent.  The  most  favorite  schools  for  Flor 
entine  girls  are  those  conducted  by  nuns  and  carried 
on  within  the  precincts  of  the  convent,  but  there 
are  educational  establishments  to  be  found  in  Flor 
ence  unconnected  with  the  religious  institutions  of 
the  country.  To  an  annual  examination  of  the 
girls  belonging  to  a  school  of  the  latter  description 
I  was  invited  shortly  after  my  arrival  in  Florence, 
when  I  was  as  yet  but  imperfectly  acquainted  with 
the  Italian  language.  Though  doubtful  of  my  abil 
ity  to  understand  a  scholastic  examination  carried 
on  in  an  unfamiliar  tongue,  I  accepted  the  invitation, 
and  repaired  at  the  time  indicated  to  the  appointed 
place. 

Great  preparations  had  been  made  for  the  occa- 


132  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

sion,  as  if  to  invest  the  coming  exhibition  with  a 
character  of  importance  and  dignity.  Across  the 
end  of  the  room,  where  the  examination  was  to  be 
held,  extended  a  stage,  gaily  decorated  with  bright 
colored  drapery.  Upon  this  stage  a  table  and  some 
chairs  were  placed  for  the  use  of  the  examiner  and 
the  pupils,  and  directly  in  front  were  several  rows 
of  forms  appropriated  to  the  service  of  the  audience. 
The  room  filled  rapidly,  and  the  benches  were  well 
furnished  with  occupants,  when  a  grave,  middle-aged 
man  emerged  from  a  mysterious  side  door  and  took 
his  place  on  a  seat  occupying  a  central  position  on 
the  platform.  On  either  side  of  him,  four  or  five 
girls,  of  ages  varying  apparently  from  ten  to  sixteen, 
ranged  themselves  in  order.  The  ladies,  of  whom 
the  company  entirely  consisted,  kept  a  profound 
silence,  as  befitted  the  importance  of  the  scene,  and 
the  examination  began. 

My  doubts  as  to  the  sufficiency  of  my  knowledge 
of  the  language  were  soon  dispelled,  for  I  speedily 
found  that  my  endowments  in  this  respect  were  most 
ample  for  all  the  requirements  of  the  occasion ;  the 
questions  asked  being  characterized  by  a  ludicrous 
degree  of  simplicity.  Difficult,  indeed,  it  was  to 
restrain  a  smile,  when  I  heard  girls,  almost  womanly 
in  their  appearance,  required  to  tell  how  many 
vowels  there  were  in  the  Italian  language  ;  and  fur 
ther,  to  exhibit  a  convincing  proof  of  their  knowl- 


SOCIETY.  133 

edge  on  this  point,  by  furnishing  words  in  which 
the  vowels  severally  occurred. 

"  Eight,  quite  right,"  said  the  professor,  applaud 
ingly,  as  a  girl  mentioned  bocca,  in  exemplification  of 
the  use  of  the  letter  o ;  "  and  now,"  he  continued,  in 
his  consequential  manner,  "  I  write  this  word  bocca 
(mouth)  upon  this  slate :  you  see  it  there ;  and  I 
require  you  to  tell  me  what  letter  it  is  necessary  to 
add  in  order  to  convert  bocca  into  boccia"  (bottle). 

The  question  was  too  abstruse  for  the  girl  address 
ed  to  answer ;  but  the  pupil  next  questioned  solved 
it  triumphantly. 

An  examination  conducted  by  the  French  master 
was  of  an  equally  puerile  and  absurd  character. 
After  requiring  the  French  for — I,  thou,  she,  it,  etc. 
—  requirements  not  always  successfully  complied 
with — he  proceeded  to  make  his  pupils  apply  their 
knowledge  of  the  personal  pronouns  to  the  conjuga 
tion  in  French  of  the  phrase,  "  To  gain  one's  liveli 
hood."  "  I  gain  my  livelihood,"  said  one  girl : 
"  Thou  gainest  thy  livelihood,"  said  another:  and 
so  on  round  the  circle,  until  "  They  gain  their  live 
lihood,"  was  attained.  In  geography  and  history, 
not  even,  the  most  superficial  examination  took 
place  ;  and  when  the  morning's  performances  came 
to  an  end,  I  could  not  help  wondering  at  the  display 
I  had  witnessed  of  gross  incapacity  on  the  part  of 
the  teachers,  and  gross  ignorance  on  the  part  of  the 
taught. 


134  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

An  evening  exhibition  that  took  place  on  the  same 
stage,  was,  in  its  way,  of  a  much  more  meritorious 
kind.  Though  the  school  was  a  large  one,  the  same 
young  ladies  who  had  exhibited  their  attainments 
in  the  morning,  and  who  were  evidently  considered 
the  show  pupils  of  the  establishment,  once  more 
appeared  upon  the  stage  to  display  their  dramatic 
and  elocutionary  powers.  French  poems  were  re 
cited  wTith  fluency  and  considerable  grace,  by  girls 
who  had  shown  a  far  from  intimate  acquaintance 
with  French  pronouns  a  few  hours  previously.  Then 
came  a  play,  which  was  acted  in  a  very  creditable 
manner;  and  the  examination  concluded  with  some 
waltzing,  which  evidenced  that  the  art  of  dancing 
was,  above  all  other  branches  of  learning,  the  one 
most  thoroughly  cultivated  and  understood. 

From  the  reputation  this  school  enjoyed,  and  the 
number  of  pupils  it  contained,  it  was  evident  that 
the  system  of  instruction  there  pursued  was  not  in 
ferior  to  that  adopted  in  any  other  similar  kind  of 
seminary  in  the  town.  It  was  easy  to  see,  indeed, 
that  the  amount  of  knowledge  displayed  in  the  ex 
amination  fully  came  up  to  the  requirements  of 
society ;  for  an  observation  I  made,  relative  to  the 
ludicrous  simplicity  of  the  questions  asked,  seemed 
to  give  rise,  in  the  minds  of  the  ladies  I  addressed, 
to  a  sensation  of  surprise.  It  was  truly  not  to  be 
expected,  however,  that  those  who  had  been  sub 
jected  to  precisely  the  same  system  of  tuition  them- 


SOCIETY.  135 

selves  should  find  anything  to  censure  or  to  smile  at 
in  that  morning's  scene. 

When  such  is  the  state  of  feminine  education 
amongst  the  higher  classes  of  Italian  society,  it  can 
excite  no  wonder  to  discover  that,  in  the  lower 
ranks  of  female  life,  a  state  of  the  most  dense  igno 
rance  prevails.  Even  girls  who  enjoy  a  very  respect 
able  position  in  the  world  remain  quite  ignorant  of 
the  arts  of  reading  and  writing.  The  popular  opin 
ion  on  the  subject  of  the  uselessness  of  such  acquire 
ments  to  women,  was  strikingly  embodied  in  a  re 
mark  made  to  me  by  the  wife  of  a  respectable  Gov 
ernment  official  at  the  Baths  of  Monte  Catirii. 
Discovering  that  she  was  quite  unacquainted  with 
the  mysteries  of  the  alphabet,  I  asked  her  how  it 
happened,  that  she,  the  daughter  of  a  schoolmaster, 
had  not  learned  to  read  and  write  ?  "  Oh,  my  father 
said,"  she  replied,  "  such  knowledge  was  quite  use 
less  to  a  woman ;  and  for  all  the  good  it  did,  it 
would  be  folly  for  me  to  be  at  the  trouble  to  learn, 
and  waste  of  time  for  him  to  be  at  the  trouble  to 
teach  me."  In  towns,  girls  in  the  humbler  walks 
of  life  may  chance  to  get  a  slight  tincture  of  the 
elements  of  learning ;  but  in  the  country,  a  girl  who 
can  read  a  page,  or  write  a  line,  is  quite  a  phenom 
enon. 

The  idea  of  a  girl  in  Italy  is  indissolubly  connect 
ed  with  that  of  a  being  devoid  of  all  moral  sense, 
infallably  preferring  wrong  to  right,  and  who  can 


136  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

only  he  kept  from  harm  and  evil  by  the  most  inces 
sant  watchfulness.  A  mother's  whole  maternal  du 
ties  towards  her  daughter  seem  considered  in  Italy 
to  he  comprehended  in  the  one  act  of  vigilance. 
"  My  daughter  has  never  been,  since  she  was  nine 
years  old,  for  more  than  twenty  minutes  at  a  time, 
out  of  my  sight,"  said  an  Italian  countess,  boast- 
fully ;  and  by  this  declaration  she  appeared  to  think 
that  she  merited  to  take  rank  in  the  world's  esteem 
with  the  mother  of  the  Gracchi.  A  girl  belonging 
to  the  upper  ranks  of  life  in  Italy  is  practically  a 
prisoner  until  she  marries.  Into  society  she  must 
not  enter;  neither  in  the  morning  fete,  or  in  the 
evening  dance,  is  she  permitted  to  display  her  charms 
and  graces.  An  occasional  walk  with  father,  or 
brother,  or  mother,  is  permitted ;  but  she  must  not 
go  outside  the  house  unless  accompanied  by  her 
nearest  kindred.  To  be  seen  alone,  even  but  a  few 
yards  from  her  father's  door,  would  entail  upon  her 
the  deepest  disgrace  and  heaviest  censure.  Kept 
under  a  perpetual  surveillance,  every  line  she  writes, 
and  every  line  she  receives,  are  subjected  to  rigid 
scrutiny. 

The  girl  belonging  to  the  humbler  classes  of  soci 
ety  shares  also,  in  a  great  degree,  in  the  same  re 
strictions  on  her  liberty.  The  grown  up  daughter 
of  a  woman  keeping  a  lodging-house  in  Florence 
could  not  profit  by  my  offer  to  take  her  to  sec  the 
ceremony  of  the  Lavanda  at  the  Pitti  Palace,  solely 


SOCIETY.  137 

because  she  was  unable  to  procure  a  proper  escort  to 
accompany  her,  in  a  ten  minutes'  walk  through  the 
best  part  of  the  town,  to  the  place  where  I  resided. 
A  work-girl,  going  to  her  employer's  house,  has  to 
provide  herself  with  some  companion ;  and,  in  emer 
gencies,  I  have  sometimes  seen  a  little  child  do  duty 
as  duenna  for  the  occasion.  In  the  country,  the 
same  rule  prevails ;  no  peasant  girl  is  ever  to  be  seen 
alone :  and  equally  in  the  higher  as  in  the  lower 
classes  of  society  would  any  infringement  of  the 
social  code,  in  this  respect,  be  fatal  to  matrimonial 
expectations.  Under  these  circumstances,  the  pro 
ceedings  of  unmarried  English  ladies  excite  the 
wonder  and  envy  of  their  sex  in  Italy.  Often  have 
I  been  amused  at  the  way  in  which  the  most  com 
monplace  exploits  have  been  magnified  into  heroic 
actions ;  and  not  unfrequently  did  I  find  myself  ele 
vated  to  the  dignity  of  a  heroine,  when  utterly  un 
conscious  that  I  had  in  any  way  merited  the  name 
assigned  me. 

Though  marriage,  in  some  degree,  enlarges  the 
sphere  of  action  of  Italian  women,  the  liberty  it 
gives  is  of  a  very  limited  character.  An  Italian 
lady  belonging  to  the  middle  classes  of  society, 
whilst  lamenting  to  me  the  evil  influences  which 
resulted  from  the  present  social  code  of  Italy,  gave 
an  instance  of  how  it  had  once  personally  affected 
her  in  a  very  unpleasant  manner. 

"  Some  years  ago,"   she  said,   "  my  husband,  not 


138  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

being  able  to  leave  Lucca  conveniently  at  the  time 
there  was  some  trifling  business  to  be  transacted  at 
Genoa,  proposed  to  me  that  I  should  take  my  little 
boy,  and  go  there  to  settle  matters  in  his  stead. 
I  at  once  agreed  to  his  suggestions,  and  went. 
The  journey  was  easily  and  quickly  performed  by 
railroad  and  steamer;  but  the  censure  I  brought 
upon  myself  by  traveling  unattended  by  a  gentle 
man,  was  of  the  severest  description.  If  I  had 
committed  some  act  of  murder  and  robbery,  I  could 
scarcely  have  been  more  blamed." 

Even  amongst  the  lower  classes,  neither  age  nor 
matrimony  gives  a  woman  the  privilege  of  walking 
about  alone  in  a  strange  place,  without  provoking 
censure.  For  instance,  when  I  advised  a  plain, 
elderly  married  female  servant  to  visit  the  cathedral 
at  Pistoja,  during  a  two  hours'  unavoidable  deten 
tion  there  on  her  way  by  railroad  to  Florence,  she 
somewhat  indignantly  rejoined,  "  that  to  walk  alone 
in  the  streets  of  a  strange  town,  was  an  indecorum 
she  would  be  sorry  to  be  guilty  of." 

If  it  were  not  a  sorrowful  spectacle,  it  might  well 
excite  a  smile  to  see  the  subservient  public  homage 
paid  by  Italian  women  to  the  conventional  regula 
tions  of  decorum,  whilst  flagrantly  contravening  in 
their  daily  life  its  essential  principle.  The  same 
lady  who  would  shrink  from  the  impropriety  of 
traveling  five  miles  alone,  will  not  scruple  to  prove 
false  to  a  wife's  highest  duties.  Sharing  with  men 


SOCIETY.  139 

in  an  epicurean  tone  of  thought  and  feeling,  every 
womanly  virtue  is  sacrificed  at  the  shrine  of  pleas 
ure.  In  the  social  life  of  Italy,  vice  presents  itself 
to  the  sight  under  a  veil  too  thin  to  hide  from  the 
least  ohservant  eye  its  offensive  features.  The  draw 
ing-rooms  of  the  upper  classes  of  the  land,  particu 
larly  in  Tuscany,  are  filled  with  faithless  wives  and 
false  husbands.  So  flagrant  and  wide-spread  is  the 
evil,  that  sin  wears  no  blush,  nor  seeks  a  mask  to 
screen  it.  An  English  lady,  who  had  entered  much 
into  Italian  society,  told  me  that  she  was  often 
shocked  at  the  confidences  which  married  ladies 
would  force  upon  her  ;  and  when  she  told  her  hus 
band  that  she  must  really  give  up  acquaintance  with 
such  persons,  he  answered,  quite  truly,  that  to  act 
consistently,  she  must  then  give  up  Italian  society 

altogether ;  for  Signora  A and  Signora  B 

were  not  one  whit  worse  than  other  ladies — frank 
ness  and  unreserve  constituting  the  only  difference 
between  them. 

Few  are  the  Italian  girls  who,  on  first  entering  as 
matrons  into  the  dissipated  circles  of  Italian  society, 
escape  its  baneful  influences.  How,  indeed,  under 
the  circumstances,  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  The 
whole  training  of  the  Italian  girl  tends  to  render 
her  a  slave  to  impulse  and  a  prey  to  temptation. 
Marrying,  most  likely  at  her  parent's  bidding,  a 
man  she  does  not  love,  and  with  her  mind  in  all 
probability  already  half  corrupted  by  the  conversa- 


140  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

tion  she  lias  heard  in  the  drawing-room  of  her 
mother,  she  follows  readily  in  the  train  of  the  ladies 
she  sees  around.  To  resist  the  contagion  of  exam- 

o 

pie,  to  make  a  stand  for  right  in  the  midst  of 
a  crowd  of  worshipers  of  wrong,  requires  strength 
of  mind ;  and  strength  of  mind  springs  not  from  the 
mockery  of  education  that  Italian  ladies  receive  : 
learning  to  dance,  to  sing,  to  conjugate  French 
verbs,  and  to  play  the  piano.  From  empty  minds, 
and  idle  hands,  evil  naturally  ensues.  To  fill  up 
the  void  of  life,  recourse  is  had  to  the  excitement  of 
rivalry,  of  coquetry,  to  indulgence  in  gossip  and 
tattling.  Each  lady  appears  to  try  to  excuse  her 
own  proceedings  to  her  conscience  and  to  the  world, 
by  making  out  that  the  conduct  of  her  acquaint 
ances  is  still  worse.  The  light  literature  of  France, 
which  constitutes  her  only  study,  tends  further  to 
her  mental  and  moral  degradation  ;  its  pages  attir 
ing  vice  in  the  most  seductive  and  fascinating  garb. 
Finding  their  value  estimated  solely  by  the  stand 
ard  of  good  looks,  dress  becomes  to  Italian  women 
in  all  classes  of  society  an  absorbing  passion.  The 
chief  part  of  the  existence  of  the  Marchcsa  or  Con- 
tcssa,  is  employed  in  the  pleasing  labors  of  the  toil 
ette  ;  and  the  maid-of-all-work  will  not  hesitate  to 
lay  out  half  her  miserable  earnings  on  a  light  pink 
silk  bonnet.  A  young  peasant  girl  ingenuously 
confessed  to  me,  that  she  thought  perfect  happiness 
would  be  her  lot  were  she  only  possessed  of  a  silk 


SOCIETY.  141 

dress  and  gold  cliain  like  mine.  In  short,  were 
woman  to  be  judged  universally  by  the  moral  and 
mental  attributes  she  exhibits  in  Italy  at  the  present 
day,  the  opinion  might  reasonably  be  entertained 
that  she  was  a  being  low  in  the  scale  of  intelligence, 
requiring  perpetual  tutelage,  and  unfit  to  be  endowed 
with  the  prerogatives  of  self-guidance  and  self-gov 
ernment. 

Nothing  but  a  change  in  the  social  code  of  Italy 
can  cure  an  evil  that  is  a  canker  in  the  vitals  of  that 
country.  As  long  as  a  girl  is  considered  by  society 
as  a  kind  of  chattel  property,  which  may  be  dis 
posed  of  by  her  parents  to  the  highest  bidder  in  the 
matrimonial  market,  female  degradation  will  con 
tinue.  The  laws  of  nature  cannot  be  outraged  with 
impunity;  and  love,  the  life-stream  of  a  woman's 
being,  becomes,  when  diverted  forcibly  from  its  nat 
ural  course,  a  dangerous  quicksand,  in  which  honor, 
purity,  and  every  domestic  virtue  are  engulphed. 
The  refusal  of  liberty  of  choice  in  the  selection  of  a 
husband,  leads  inevitably  to  the  most  evil  conse 
quences.  Let  society  enact  what  laws  it  may  in 
reference  to  the  matter,  the  young  girl  feels  that  she 
has  inherent  rights  which  cannot  be  abrogated  by 
its  dictum.  Too  weak  for  open  resistance,  she  seeks 
to  contravene  the  projects  of  her  parents,  in  regard 
to  her  future  establishment,  by  clandestine  manoeu 
vres.  Concealment  induces  deceit,  deceit  gives  rise 
to  falsehood  and  hypocrisy ;  and  she  stoops  to  de- 


142  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

spicable  artifices  to  blind  her  mother  to  the  fact  that 
she  is  carrying  on  a  correspondence  with  some  lover. 
Successful  or  unsuccessful  in  her  object,  whether  she 
secures  a  husband  for  herself  or  has  to  accept  one  at 
the  dictation  of  another,  the  evil  seed  has  been  sown 
in  her  heart,  and  can  scarcely  fail  to  ripen  under 
the  baneful  influences  of  Italian  society.  In  the 
following  incident  will  be  found  a  striking  illustra 
tion  of  the  contest  of  wits  in  regard  to  matrimonial 
schemes,  which  goes  on  in  Italy  between  mother 
and  daughter. 

In  the  summer  of  1856,  a  widow  lady  and  her 
daughter  came  from  the  city  of  Perugia  to  Leghorn, 
for  sea-bathing.  The  daughter  was  young  and  sin 
gularly  handsome :  with  the  dark  eyes  and  hair  of 
Italy,  she  possessed  the  height  and  fair  complexion 
of  England — a  combination  rare  as  it  was  attractive. 
Her  appearance  out  of  doors  (an  event  of  rare  oc 
currence)  never  failed  to  create  a  sensation.  Ad 
miring  glances  greeted  the  "  Bella  Perugiana  "  (as 
she  was  called)  at  mass,  and  wherever  else  she  might 
be  visible ;  young  gentlemen  walked  up  and  down 
before  the  house  where  she  resided,  to  catch  a 
glimpse,  if  it  were  possible,  of  the  young  beauty. 
It  may  well  be  imagined  that,  under  such  circum 
stances,  the  mother  found  her  office  of  duenna  no 
sinecure.  To  do  her  justice,  however,  she  seemed 
equal  to  the  emergency;  for  she  did  not  scruple  to 


SOCIETY.  143 

sacrifice  her  own  convenience  and  ease  to  the  dis 
charge  of  her  duty  in  this  particular. 

However  useful  servants  might  be,  and  doubtless 
were,  in  her  estimation,  she  held  them  as  enemies  to 
be  dreaded  in  her  present  situation ;  for  how  could 
she  feel  assured  that,  through  the  means  of  a  bribe, 
they  might  not  be  induced  to  become  a  channel  of 
communication  between  her  daughter  and  some 
lover  ?  The  danger  was  too  imminent  to  be  gain- 
sayed  or  denied  ;  no  vigilance  on  her  part  could  pre 
vent  the  occurrence  of  the  evil  she  foreboded,  if 
servants,  on  any  pretext  or  business,  were  admitted 
into  the  apartments  they  occupied.  Influenced  by 
this  conviction,  the  anxious  mother  resolved,  w^ith 
heroic  self-denial,  that  she  and  her  daughter  should 
act  as  servants  to  themselves,  so  that  the  presence  of 
strange  attendants  might  be  dispensed  with  alto 
gether.  Accordingly,  the  young  beauty  had  to 
enact  the  housemaid's  part,  to  make  her  own  bed, 
and  to  clean  out  her  own  apartment.  In  the  dis 
charge,  however,  of  these  prescribed  tasks,  it  soon 
became  evident  that  nature  had  not  designed  the 
"  Bella  Pcrugiana"  to  enact  the  domestic's  part,  for 
she  was  constantly  committing  some  piece  of  awk 
wardness  in  connection  with  the  performance  of  her 
menial  duties.  Scarce  a  day  passed  by  that,  in 
ban  inns;  her  towel  over  the  sill  of  the  back  window 

O         O 

to  dry,  she  did  not  let  it  carelessly  drop  down  into 
the  small  courtyard  of  a  cafd  immediately  beneath. 


144  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

As  the  distance,  however,  from  the  ground  to  the 
first  floor  apartments  was  but  small,  the  evil  was 
easily  remedied,  as  some  good-natured  attendant 
was  always  at  hand  to  throw  back  the  dropped  arti 
cle  to  the  fair  hands  from  which  it  had  unluckily 
slipped. 

Thus  weeks  passed  on  :  the  mother  had  every 
reason  to  be  pleased  with  her  daughter's  conduct  in 
everything,  save  in  the  careless  manner  in  which 
she  still  continued  to  perform  the  housemaid's  busi 
ness  ;  for  in  spite  of  chidings  from  the  one,  and 
strong  utterings  of  self-reproach  on  the  other's  part, 
such  illustrations  of  the  principles  of  gravitation  as 
were  referred  to  before,  occurred  frequently.  At 
length  came  a  day  of  anger  to  the  mother  and  of 
confusion  and  dismay  to  the  daughter,  when  the 
origin  of  the  young  lady's  awkwardness  was  re 
vealed.  The  dupe  of  an  ingenious  artifice,  the  out 
witted  duenna,  discovered  that  in  every  dropped 
article  which  had  been  so  kindly  thrown  back  to 
the  beauty  from  the  court  beneath,  a  missive  from  a 
lover  had  been  enclosed ;  and  by  the  same  means, 
pen,  ink,  and  paper,  to  be  employed  furtively  (if 
possible),  had  been  obtained.  Under  the  mother's 
watchful  eyes,  a  close  correspondence  with  a  forbid 
den  lover,  wTho  had  followed  from  Perugia,  had  been 
maintained.  But  vain  were  the  daughter's  wiles  : 
the  iron  bars  of  custom  and  prescription  were  too 
strong  for  her  to  break ;  and  like  a  bird  who,  after 


SOCIETY.  145 

vainly  flapping  its  wings  against  the  wires  of  its 
cage,  resigns  itself  to  captivity,  so  the  girl  yielded 
to  the  force  of  circumstances :  when  she  left  Leg 
horn  shortly  afterwards,  she  left  it  as  the  promised 
bride  of  a  wealthy  nobleman.  "Wealth  and  rank ! 
what  more  could  any  heart  desire  ?  Nothing,  cer 
tainly  :  the  essentials  for  happiness  were  fully  com 
prehended  in  those  terms.  At  least,  so  thought  the 
mother ;  and  as  to  the  daughter,  what  her  thoughts 
on  the  subject  were,  mattered  not — her  destiny  was 
sealed. 

From  such  a  marriage  evil  must  ensue :  whether 
dazzled  by  the  seductive  charms  of  wealth  and  rank, 
or  under  the  pressure  of  compulsion,  she  yielded 
willingly  or  unwillingly  to  her  mother's  views,  the 
career  of  the  "  Bella  Perugiana  "  is  almost  equally 
sure  to  be  a  sinful  and  unhappy  one.  Bound  to  a 
man  she  does  not  love,  her  heart  and  fancy  filled 
with  the  image  of  her  deserted  suitor,  with  an  empty 
mind,  and  time  hanging  heavy  on  her  hands,  an 
adept  in  deceipt  and  artifice  —  what  likelihood  is 
there  that  she  will  be  able  to  resist  the  corrupting 
influences  of  the  society  into  which  she  is  thrown  ? 
Sad  is  it  to  follow  up  in  thought  her  probable  career, 
to  see  the  incense  of  admiration,  readily  offered, 
accepted  eagerly;  to  see  mistrust,  suspicion,  jealousy, 
or  hatred,  perhaps,  and  every  element  of  discord 
and  unhappiness,  take  up  their  abode  beneath  the 

domestic  roof — to  behold  the  desecration  of  the 
10 


146  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

holiest  duties  of  existence,  and  every  household  vir 
tue  flung  aside  or  trampled  under  foot  with  shame 
less  audacity — husband  and  wife  alike  unfaithful 
to  their  vows — father  and  mother  alike  negligent  of 
their  parental  duties — children  who  can  neither  love 
nor  honor  her  who  gave  them  birth — daughters  as 
artful  as  she  was  herself,  and  to  whom,  in  turn,  she 
acts  the  duenna — sons  old  in  vice  at  a  youthful  age, 
frequenters  of  the  "  casino  "  and  the  gaming  table 
— old  age  ungraced  with  love  and  reverence,  tor 
mented  with  gnawing  regrets  after  her  faded  love 
liness,  envy  of  the  admiration  proffered  to  youthful 
beauties,  and  futile  attempts  to  efface  by  art  the 
ravages  that  time  has  made  in  her  once  perfect 
features.  Sad  and  painful  as  is  this  picture,  who 
can  say  that  under  the  circumstances  the  life  of  the 
"  Bella  Perugiana  "  is  likely  to  be  different  to  the 
one  described  ? 

Under  the  social  code  of  Italy,  even  marriages  of 
affection  are  not  likely  to  terminate  much  more 
happily  than  those  contracted  from  motives  of  in 
terest  and  convenience.  Though  few  in  number, 
marriages  do  sometimes  occur  where  the  young  lady 
marries  the  man  on  whom  she  has  fixed,  or  rather 
fancies  she  has  fixed,  her  affections :  for  generally 
in  such  cases  the  love  professed  is  but  a  shadowy 
growth  of  the  imagination ;  since  from  the  secluded 
life  she  has  been  forced  to  lead,  in  accordance  with 
the  Italian  code  of  propriety,  her  whole  knowledge 


SOCIETY.  147 

of  the  object  of  her  choice  is  limited,  generally,  to 
an  acquaintance  with  his  personal  appearance.  At 
church  most  likely  she  first  beheld  him ;  and  she 
was  not  too  much  absorbed  by  her  devotions  to  re 
mark  that  his  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  face  with 
an  expression  of  admiration.  She  sees  him  follow 
ing  her  home,  to  find  out  her  name  and  residence ; 
and,  day  after  day,  she  notices  him  passing  arid  re- 
passing,  looking  upwards  at  the  window :  from 
which,  like  most  Italian  girls,  she  spends  the  greatest 
portion  of  her  time  in  gazing.  Flattered  by  these 
attentions,  she  speedily  begins  to  think  that  the 
young  gentleman  who  has  found  such  charms  in 
her  is  decidedly  a  very  captivating  person.  She 
finds  amiability  in  his  smile,  agreeableness  in  his 
eyes,  and  evidence  of  perfect  taste  in  the  fashion  of 
his  coat,  the  curl  of  his  moustache,  and  the  shape 
of  his  well-trimmed  whiskers.  The  impression  made 
upon  her  heart  she  does  not  fail  to  evidence  by  her 
smiles  and  glances.  On  this  the  gentleman,  if  in 
independent  circumstances,  demands  an  interview 
with  the  young  lady's  parents,  declares  his  love, 
makes  known  his  fortune,  his  family  and  his  expect 
ations,  and  if  his  statements  are  deemed  satisfactory, 
the  object  of  his  choice  is  overjoyed  to  hail  him  as 
her  affianced  husband,  although  she  has  never  in 
terchanged  with  him  a  single  sentence. 

Thus,  with  the  tastes,  the  feelings,  the  real  char 
acter  of  either  party  mutually  quite  unknown,  it  is 


148  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

evident  that  it  is  a  happy  chance  indeed  which  unites 
together  dispositions  in  any  way  congenial.  In 
ordinary  cases,  where  no  bond  exists  of  community 
of  thought  and  feeling,  a  few  short  months  of  wedd 
ed  life  suffice  to  weaken  or  destroy  the  love  which, 
on  either  side,  has  been  a  mere  creation  of  the  fancy. 
The  dark  eyes  of  Gertrude  loose  their  charm,  when 
they  are  dimmed  by  peevishness  or  flash  with  anger ; 
and  the  graceful  curl  of  ^arcisso's  moustache  can 
not  atone  for  ungracious  words  and  a  careless  and 
cold  demeanor.  Mutual  disappointment  results,  ere 
long,  in  mutual  indifference.  Devoid  of  that  culti 
vation  of  mind  which  would  enable  her  to  find  re 
sources  of  enjoyment  in  herself,  Gertrude  tries  to 
drown  the  remembrance  of  her  domestic  griefs  and 
trials  in  a  whirl  of  gaiety ;  while  2s"arcisso  vies  with 
his  wife  in  a  sedulous  desire  to  effect  the  same  ob 
ject,  through  a  career  of  fashionable  dissipation. 

The  frequency  with  which  such  results  occur  has 
given  rise  to  a  proverb  that  embodies  with  vulgar 
force  the  popular  idea  of  the  unhappy  issue  of  love 
matches  in  Italy ;  but  it  is  evident  that  from  mar 
riages  effected  in  the  manner  described,  the  merits 
of  the  great  principle  of  feminine  liberty  of  choice 
have  not  been  compromised  in  the  slightest  manner. 

The  celebrated  Silvio  Pellico  has  referred  to  this 
subject  in  very  striking  terms ;  and  how  fully  his 
mind  was  impressed  with  the  conviction  that  a  re 
form  was  urgently  required  in  the  social  code  of 


SOCIETY.  149 

Italy,  the  following  extract  from  his  writings  will 
unequivocally  evidence : 

"  To  the  brief  raptures  of  the  honeymoon  succeed 
ennui,  and  the  perception  that  the  choice  was  pre 
cipitate.  From  the  regrets  of  one  or  of  both  the 
parties  arise  slights,  offenses  and  daily  bitter  dis 
sensions.  The  woman,  the  gentler  and  the  more 
generous  being  of  the  two,  becomes  commonly  the 
victim  of  the  unhappy  discord ;  either  grieving  to 
death,  or,  what  is  worse,  losing  her  natural  good 
ness  of  disposition,  she  forms  attachments  through 
which,  it  seems  to  her,  she  will  find  amends  for  the 
absence  of  conjugal  affection,  but  which  eventuate 
in  nothing  but  remorse  and  shame.  From  such 
unhappy  marriages  proceed  children  who,  for  their 
first  school,  have  the  unworthy  conduct  of  the 
father,  or  of  the  mother,  or  of  both  the  parents  ; 
children  consequently  uncared  for  or  little  loved, 
destitute,  or  almost  destitute,  of  education,  without 
respect  towards  parents,  without  fraternal  or  sisterly 
affections,  without  an  idea  of  the  domestic  virtues, 
which  form  the  basis  of  the  national  virtues.  All 
these  things  arc  so  common  that  to  see  them  we 
need  only  to  look  around  us.  ~No  one  can  tell  me 
that  I  exaggerate." 

Words  strong  as  these  would  not  have  been  used 
by  such  an  ardent  lover  of  his  country  as  Silvio  Pel- 
lico,  if  the  evils  alluded  to  had  not  been  strikingly 
apparent ;  and  in  no  task  could  the  Italian  patriot 


150  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

of  the  present  day  be  more  profitably  employed  than 
in  that  of  trying  to  extirpate  the  canker  which  is 
preying  upon  the  vitals  of  his  country.  It  is  but  a 
spurious  patriotism  that  would  gloss  over  or  ignore 
evils  that  can  be  remedied ;  and  since,  truly  as  Sil 
vio  Pellico  says,  the  domestic  virtues  form  the  basis 
of  national  virtues,  Italy  can  never,  under  any  form 
of  government,  become  great  or  prosperous,  until 
the  homes  from  which  her  people  issue  are  purified 
from  the  unholy  influences  pervading  them  at 
present. 

The  accomplishment  of  this  object  can  only  be 
obtained  by  elevating  the  social  position  of  \voman, 
in  every  stage  of  her  career :  she  must  be  looked 
upon  and  treated  as  an  intelligent  responsible  being, 
and  not  as  one  from  whom  the  great  gift  of  reason 
has  been  withheld.  As  a  girl,  she  should  be  liberat 
ed  from  the  galling  restraints  by  which  she  is  now 
fettered ;  she  should  be  constituted  the  guardian  of 
her  own  honor,  and  the  influences  of  a  cultivated 
mind  and  of  moral  principle  fully  developed,  should 
supersede  the  duenna's  vigilant  eye,  as  a  check 
upon  impropriety  of  conduct.  Her  marriage  would 
then  be  an  act  emanating  from  her  own  free  will, 
and  dictated  solely  by  her  own  judgment  and  incli 
nations  ;  and  in  her  husband  she  would  see  the  ob 
ject  of  her  love  and  choice,  and  not  a  constant  gall 
ing  memento  of  parental  compulsion  and  tyranny. 
Tinder  such  altered  circumstances,  love,  springing 


SOCIETY.  151 

from  the  basis  of  mutual  esteem,  respect  and  confi 
dence,  would  secure  the  sanctity  of  the  marriage  tie 
from  profanation.  Truth,  honor  and  virtue,  instilled 
by  the  mother's  examples  and  precepts  into  the 
hearts  and  minds  of  her  young  offspring,  would 
form  the  distinguishing  features  of  their  maturity ; 
and  by  a  race  growing  up  under  such  auspices,  the 
glories  of  the  mediaeval  ages  of  Italy  would  be  re 
vived,  or  perhaps  eclipsed,  by  the  triumphs  of  her 
sons  in  art,  science  and  literature. 

For  nature,  bountiful  as  of  yore,  still  sows  the 
seeds  of  genius  amongst  the  Italian  people ;  but  as 
in  the  parable  of  the  sower,  the  seed  now  falls  in 
stony  places,  where  it  can  take  no  root,  and  by  the 
wayside,  where  it  is  trampled  down,  and  thus  never 
reaches  maturity.  How  much  the  elevation  of  wo 
man  would  tend  to  foster  and  to  stimulate  the 
growth  of  the  precious  germs  which  now  die  out  for 
want  of  nourishment  and  culture,  is  evidenced  from 
the  number  of  women  distinguished  by  their  attain 
ments,  who  shed  dignity  on  their  sex  in  the  times 
of  Dante,  Michel  Angelo  and  Galileo.  In  the  times 
which  produced  a  Bettisia  Gozzadini,  the  pride  and 
ornament  of  the  University  of  Bologna,  of  which 
she  was  created  a  professor ;  that  exhibited  a  Domi- 
tilla  Trevulzia,  to  whose  Latin  orations  flocked 
crowds  of  listeners;  when  Isotta  of  Verona  took  a 
foremost  place  amongst  the  disputants  in  public 
controversies ;  when  No  villa,  the  beautiful  daughter 


152 


LIFE   IN    TUSCANY. 


of  the  Professor  of  Law  at  Bologna,  delivered  lec 
tures  to  students,  as  the  deputy  of  her  father,  in  his 
absence;  when  Elena  Piscopia  dignified  the  Uni 
versity  of  Padua  by  the  variety  and  profundity  of 
her  attainments ;  and  when  a  silver  crown,  encircled 
with  leaves  of  gold,  was  placed  on  the  head  of  Laura 
Bassi,  in  testimony  of  the  admiration  felt  for  her 
genius  and  learning :  in  times  illustrated  by  these, 
and  other  names  too  numerous  to  mention,  the  po 
sition,  the  character  of  Italian  women  must  have 
been  widely  different  from  what  it  is  at  present ; 
and  the  spirit  of  the  past,  in  this  respect,  must  be 
revived,  ere  the  fame  of  a  tarnished  name  can  be 
redeemed,  and  Italy  assume  a  forward  place  in  the 
ranks  of  civilization. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   PEASANT. 


"  no  country  of  the  world,  perhaps,  do 
the  signs  of  fertility,  industry  and  abun 
dance,  so  forcibly  present  themselves  to 
the  stranger's  view,  as  in  the  largest 
portion  of  Tuscany.  Art  and  nature,  there 
going  hand  in  hand,  produce  a  series  of 
rural  pictures  of  the  choicest,  richest,  and 
most  attractive  description.  Through  the 
combined  influences  of  a  glowing  summer  sun,  a  fer 
tile  soil,  and  an  elaborate  system  of  cultivation,  the 
vales  of  the  Arno,  the  Chian,  the  Ombrone,  the 
Xievole,  and  the  plain  of  Lucca,  teem  with  products 
unknown  to  our  less  fruitful  soil,  and  less  genial 
clime.  From  the  carefully  garnered  harvest  of  the 
olive  tree,  the  peasant  extracts  the  oil  to  feed  his 
evening  lamp  in  the  short  days  of  winter.  The  vine, 
until  stricken  by  disease  in  recent  times,  afforded 
him  an  abundant  supply  of  a  grateful  and  strength- 


154  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

ening  beverage.  In  the  Indian  maize,  which  springs 
up  vigorously  in  his  fields,  he  finds  a  nutritious  food. 
Fig,  peach,  pear,  chestnut  and  walnut  trees,  drop 
down  to  him  their  fruits.  Flowers,  the  hot-house 
nurselings  or  garden  treasures  of  colder  climes,  offer 
spontaneously  their  rich  and  often  highly-scented 
blossoms  to  his  view.  "With  the  bramble  of  the 
wayside  fence  the  sweet  clematis  twines ;  the  small 
singing  bird,  which  frequents  the  copse,  makes  its 
nest  amongst  myrtle  boughs;  the  purple  gladiolis 
raises  its  head  amidst  the  growing  "grain ;  and,  in 
many  a  grassy  nook,  the  white  petals  of  the  gum- 
cistns  strew  the  ground.  "With  its  teeming  soil,  and 
its  varied  produce,  the  primeval  curse  seems  to  sit 
lightly  on  Tuscany. 

The  impress  of  art — of  industry,  no  less  than  that 
of  a  bounteous  nature,  is  seen  stamped  upon  the 
land  unmistakably.  Fields,  where  not  a  weed  is  to 
be  discerned ;  farms,  in  which  not  one  crooked  or 
useless  fence  is  visible,  where  the  sower  follows  quick 
upon  the  reaper's  track,  and  where  the  fresh  turned 
up  sod  is  fast  covered  over  by  a  bright  carpet  of 
verdure  ;  where,  from  dawn  till  dusk,  the  laborer  is 
seen  plying  spade  or  hoe  indefatigably :  all  these 
things,  seen  in  various  parts  of  Tuscany,  attest  that 
the  Tuscan  peasant  is  far  from  being  an  ungrateful 
recipient  of  the  bounties  of  Providence.  As  the 
traveler  journeys  in  spring  or  summer  through  this 
favored  land,  especially  along  the  vale  of  the  Arno, 


THE    PEASANT.  155 

Ms  onward  course  will  be  through  scenes  calculated 
to  suggest  the  idea  of  a  realized  Arcadia.     Far  as 
the  sight  can  reach  on  either  side,  farm  after  farm, 
for  miles  together,  displays  the  same  richness  of  pro 
duce,  the  same  economy  of  space,  the  same  garden- 
like  degree  of  cultivation.     Seen  from  a  distance, 
the  tile-roofed  dwellings  of  the  peasant,  rising  in 
variably  at  least  two  stories  in  height,  though  devoid 
of  attraction  as  picturesque  objects,  seem  to  speak 
almost  as  strongly  of  comfort  and  prosperity  as  do 
the  well-tilled  fields,  with  their  rich  and  varied  pro 
duce,  visible  around  them.     Under  the  influences  of 
the  scene,  bright  are  the  pictures  that  fancy  calls  up 
before  the  traveler's  eye,  of  the  domestic  life  enjoyed 
by  the  Tuscan  peasantry :  the  daily  board,  with  its 
simple  but  abundant  food ;  the  daily  toil,  which  ex 
ercises,  but   does  not  impair,  the  energies  of  the 
frame;  the  clean,  roomy  kitchen,  whose  walls  dis 
play  a  goodly  array  of  delf ;   the  tidy  housewife, 
with  her  dark  hair  braided  smoothly  beneath  her 
snowy  cap ;  the  stalwart  husband,  clad  in  his  good, 
homely,  substantial  suit;  children,  merry,  healthy, 
and  respectably  dressed,  playing  in  the  sunshine,  or 
clustering  round  the  hearth  ;  youth,  happy,  its  joy- 
ousness  lingering  long,  undimmed  by  the  cares  and 
toils  of  a   striving,  struggling  life;    age,   cheerful, 
contented,   the   calm,  peaceful  'twilight  of   a   day 
whose  brightness   had  been   but   momentarily  and 
rarely  overcast. 


156  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

Unfortunately,  however,  between  the  real  and  the 
imaginary  in  this,  as  well  as  in  many  other  things 
in  the  world,  there  exist  a  wide  interval  and  a  vast 
dissimilarity.  Not  more  illusive  is  the  mirage  of  the 
desert  than  is  the  picture  painted  in  bright  colors 
by  the  traveler's  imagination  of  the  condition  of  the 
Tuscan  peasantry;  and  in  both  instances,  a  near 
approach  destroys  the  delusion  :  the  comfort,  the 
well-being,  the  prosperity  and  contentment  of  the 
Tuscan  peasant  being  no  more  real  than  the  gleam 
ing  lakes  of  water,  the  shady  trees,  and  the  bright 
verdure  which  mocked  from  afar  the  hopes  of  the 
tired  wanderer.  No  more  striking  exemplification 
of  the  truth  of  the  old  proverb  that  "  appearances 
deceive,"  can  be  found  than  that  afforded  by  the 
surface  aspect  of  rural  life  in  Tuscany. 

To  see  the  actual  state  of  things  with  the  Tuscan 
peasant,  let  us  visit  him  in  his  home,  selecting  a  fine 
day  in  early  summer  for  this  purpose.  Quitting  the 
high  road,  we  take  a  narrow  pathway  winding 
through  the  fields  in  the  direction  of  a  substantial- 
looking  two-storied  house,  whose  red-tiled  roof  is 
seen  rising  above  an  intervening  screen  of  foliage. 
Every  yard  of  our  progress,  as  we  advance,  is  mark 
ed  by  features  that  cannot  fail  to  be  admired.  On 
either  hand  are  luxuriant  crops  of  grain  alternating 
with  strips  of  lupin,  vetches,  peas  and  beans,  inter 
sected  by  rows  of  vines,  whose  long  branches,  hang 
ing  in  rich  festoons  as  they  trail  from  tree  to  tree, 


THE    PEASANT.  157 

close  in  the  view  in  every  direction ;  not  a  rood  of 
ground  we  traverse  but  bears  the  mark  of  neatness, 
care  and  industry.  ~No  weeds,  no  crooked  fences, 
no  yawning  ditches  are  visible — all  waste  of  space, 
all  w^aste  of  soil  by  useless  vegetation,  seem  scrupu 
lously  avoided.  Until  we  reach  the  immediate  pre 
cincts  of  the  dwelling,  the  rich  picture  is  not  marred 
by'one  unpleasant  feature ;  but  once  there — arrived 
at  our  destination,  the  whole  character  of  the  scene 
undergoes  a  complete  metamorphosis.  The  eviden 
ces  of  neatness,  care  and  abundance,  disappear,  giv 
ing  place  to  signs  as  unmistakable  of  dirt,  slovenliness 
and  poverty.  The  dwelling,  which,  viewed  from 
afar,  had  an  air  of  comfort  and  respectability,  ap 
pears,  on  close  inspection,  a  cheerless  and  utterly 
comfortless  habitation  :  discolored  walls,  wood- work 
from  which  almost  every  trace  of  paint  has  vanished, 
windows  without  sashes  or  glass — mere  large  square 
apertures  in  fact,  crossed  at  regular  intervals  by  iron 
bars — present  themselves  to  notice ;  and  the  vacant 
space  before  the  entrance  door  is  littered  over  with 
rubbish. 

Inside,  a  still  more  dreary  sight  awaits  us :  step 
ping  across  the  threshhold,  we  enter  a  good-sized 
apartment,  which  serves  at  the  same  time  as  kitchen 
and  sitting-room  for  the  inhabitants  of  the  dwelling. 
The  light  that  enters  freely  through  the  large  un- 
glazed  casement,  reveals  walls  begrimed  with  smoke 
and  dirt,  and  blackened  rafters.  A  bench  here,  a 


158  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

table  there,  a  stool  and  two  or  three  decrepit-look 
ing  rushbottomed  chairs,  with  a  few  pots  and  pans, 
compose  the  whole  amount  of  furniture  visible. 
Ascending  by  a  steep  ladder  with  a  hand-rail,  serv 
ing  as  staircase,  we  gain  the  second  story,  and  find 
the  characteristic  features  of  the  scene  below  repeat 
ed  in  the  foul,  comfortless,  and  almost  furnitureless 
rooms,  which  are  used  as  sleeping  apartments  by  the 
members  of  the  household.  Harmonizing  well  with 
the  aspect  of  the  interior  is  the  appearance  of  the 
mistress  of  the  dwelling;  a  dirty  slattern,  without 
shoes  or  stockings,  clad  in  a  coarse  gingham  dress, 
become,  from  the  effects  of  dirt  and  age,  of  a  kind 
of  nondescript  color;  her  face,  arms  and  neck,  are, 
through  exposure  to  the  sun,  tanned  to  a  dark  brown 
hue,  and  a  quantity  of  black,  tangled,  disheveled 
hair  peers  forth  from  beneath  a  red  cotton  handker 
chief  covering  the  back  part  of  the  head,  and  tied 
beneath  the  chin.  The  children,  clustering  around 
in  scanty,  tattered  garments,  with  shocks  of  un 
combed  hair,  and  faces  guiltless  of  any  but  a  most 
remote  acquaintance  with  soap  and  water,  corres 
pond  in  air  and  aspect  with  the  maternal  model. 
From  a  scene  so  little  accordant  with  our  expecta 
tions,  we  turn  away  with  a  sensation  of  mingled 
wonder  and  sadness ;  and,  retracing  our  steps,  mar 
vel  at  the  strange  discrepancy  that  exists  between 
the  peasant's  neat,  trim,  luxuriant  fields,  and  his 
dirty,  slovenly,  poverty-stricken  habitation. 


THE   PEASANT.  159 

As  regards  the  majority  of  the  peasantry  in  Tus 
cany,  the  scene  described  presents  no  exaggerated 
picture  of  the  homes  belonging  to  the  mass  of  the 
rural  population.     Dwellings  and  inmates  superior 
to  the  class  described,  may  undoubtedly  be  found, 
and  such  I  have  visited  myself  in  various  parts  of 
Tuscany  ;  but  even  in  the  immediate  neighborhood 
of  Florence,  I  did  not  enter  one  peasant's  dwelling, 
however  outwardly  imposing  in   appearance,  that 
was  not  characterized  within  by  an  air  of  discomfort 
and  poverty.     One  house,  which  gave  me  shelter  for 
half  an  hour  from  a  shower  of  rain,  I  particularly 
remember,  as  affording  a  striking  instance  of  the 
deceptiveiiess  of  outward  appearances.     Almost  de 
terred  from  entering  by  its  size  and  aspect  of  gen 
tility,  I  hesitated,  fearing  to  intrude,  until  the  sight 
of  one  of  its  inmates  at  the  door  convinced  me  that 
the  dwellers  beneath  its  roof  belonged  to  the  peas 
ant  class.     As  to  size,  many  a  gentleman  in  Great 
Britain,  with  two  or  three  hundred  a  year,  lives  in 
a  less  capacious  house ;  but  as  to  comfort,  it  could 
not  be  placed  upon  a  par  with  the  poorest  laborer's 
cottage  I  ever  saw  in  England.     In  the  numerous 
bed-rooms  through  which  I  was  conducted,  at  my 
request,  a  low  truckle  bed,  covered  with  a  coarse, 
dark-colored,  dirty  quilt,  constituted  the  only  arti 
cle  of  furniture  visible.    One  room  contained  a  heap 
of  grain,  another  was  devoted  to  the  silk-worms' 
use,  and  adjoining  the  kitchen  (the  family  sitting- 


160  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

room)  was  an  apartment  occupied  by  cows  and 
calves.  Dirt  reigned  supreme  everywhere  ;  ceilings, 
walls,  floors,  dresses,  faces — all  had  a  dingy,  begrim 
ed  and  sordid  look. 

Seen  through  the  medium  of  experience,  the  ex 
istence  of  industry  amongst  the  peasant  class  in 
Tuscany  is  quite  an  anomaly;  for  few  instances  can 
be  found  elsewhere  of  the  utmost  powers  of  the  hu 
man  frame  being  voluntarily  exerted,  with  no  higher 
reward  in  prospect  than  that  of  furnishing  merely 
the  commonest  necessaries  of  existence.  Strange  is 
it,  therefore,  to  find  that  the  Tuscan  peasant,  who 
works  so  indefatigably  in  his  fields  from  early  dawn 
till  after  the  sun  has  set,  possesses  no  greater  stimu 
lus  to  exertion  than  that  afforded  by  the  prospect  of 
gaining  the  means  to  afford  a  bare  subsistence  for 
himself  and  family.  If  industry  (as  it  is  generally 
held)  be  an  ever  gushing  well-spring  of  fortune  and 
independence,  then  should  the  Tuscan  peasant  eat 
with  a  silver  fork,  and  fear  the  frown  of  no  man. 
Scarcely  is  one  crop  gathered  in,  when  the  ground 
is  upturned  afresh  with  spade  and  hoe,  and  the  yel 
low  stubble  of  the  harvest  field  is  shortly  succeeded 
by  another,  showing  the  tender  green  of  the  young 
sprouting  plants  of  Indian  corn.  £s"ot  a  vine  is 
allowed  to  trail  its  branches  on  the  ground,  and 
every  weed  is  extirpated  by  the  careful  laborer.  As 
if  fearing  to  lose  a  moment  of  his  precious  time,  he 
works  on  with  spade  or  hoe,  even  whilst  answering 


THE   PEASANT.  161 

the  stranger's  questions  with  ready  courtesy.  Long 
as  are  the  hours  of  the  summer  day,  he  knows  he 
has  that  to  do  which  will  keep  him  busy  until  the 
sun  has  disappeared  below  the  horizon.  But  not 
alone  does  the  contadino  work;  his  labors  are  shared 
by  his  wife  and  family.  That  dirty,  dark-eyed  wo 
man,  with  the  baby  in  her  arms,  has  an  existence 
quite  as  laborious,  if  not  more  so,  than  that  of  her 
husband.  Besides  the  sufferings  and  cares  which 
the  maternal  position  involves,  she  has  to  cut  fodder 
for  the  cattle,  to  tend,  to  feed,  and  to  clean  them, 
and  to  take  a  share  in  outside  agricultural  labors. 
Well  may  her  face  be  sunburnt  and  stamped  with 
lines  of  premature  old  age,  for  her  life  is  a  hard  and 
struggling  one,  and  will  continue  so  until  the  grass 
grows  green  above  her  head.  Work,  work,  nothing 
but  work,  save  on  the  day  when  she  washes  her  face 
and  combs  her  hair  to  appear  at  mass ;  husband  and 
wife  are  sharers  alike  in  a  toilsome  and  poverty- 
stricken  existence. 

Poor  in  quality,  and  often  scant  in  quantity  is  the 
food  which  sustains  the  lives  of  the  Tuscan  peasant 
ry.  When  the  landlord's  share  is  deducted  out  of 
their  small  patch  of  wrheat,  the  portion  that  remains 
serves  but  for  a  short  time  to  afford  a  supply  of 
white  bread  for  family  use.  In  the  absence  of  this 
luxury,  a  dark,  vile-looking  compound  of  rye  and 
other  inferior  kinds  of  grain,  made  into  a  thick,  flat 
cake  or  clumsy  roll,  is  generally  eaten.  Acting  up- 


162  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

on  the  idea  that  things  are  not  in  many  cases  at  all 
so  bad  as  they  appear,  I  ventured  on  the  experiment 
.of  trying  the  unattractive  looking  fare;  but  found 
that  in  this  case  at  least,  the  decision  of  the  taste 
fully  confirmed  the  judgment  of  the  eye ;  for,  though 
I  am  very  far  from  being  dainty  on  the  score  of 
food,  and  am  even  obnoxious  to  the  reproach  of 
having  eaten,  with  positive  relish,  dinners  which 
have  been  indignantly  denounced  as  insults  to  civil 
ization  and  humanity,  I  must  in  truth  confess  that 
it  would  require  me  to  be  tolerably  far  advanced  in 
the  process  of  starvation,  before  I  should  feel  the 
least  inclination  to  repeat  the  experiment  I  made 
on  the  black  bread  which  constitutes  the  Tuscan 
peasant's  staple  food. 

The  French  or  kidney  bean  forms  a  favorite 
article  of  food ;  the  young  pod  is  not  eaten  as  with 
us,  but  the  bean  only,  in  its  maturity.  Every  peas 
ant  has  his  patch  of  beans ;  and  this  vegetable  seems 
to  rank  in  popular  estimation  above  the  potato. 
Rather  a  strange  preference  it  seemed  to  me ;  for 
though  I  strove  to  divest  my  mind  of  every  insular 
prejudice,  and  to  attain  to  an  exemplary  judicial 
state  of  feeling  on  the  question,  I  could  come  to  no 
other  decision  than  that  the  merits  of  a  dish  of  po 
tatoes  were  incomparably  superior  to  those  of  a  dish 
of  kidney  beans ;  particularly  when  the  latter  was 
served  up  in  oil,  the  usual  and  favorite  condiment 
to  everything. 


THE   PEASANT.  163 

Black  bread,  kidney  beans  and  porridge  made 
of  Indian  corn,  constitute,  it  may  be  said,  the  fare 
of  the  Tuscan  peasant.  Occasionally  he  has  in  the 
summer  or  autumn  season  a  few  luxuries,  such  as 
peas,  tomatoes,  cherries,  figs  and  chestnuts*  to  vary 
his  unattractive  food.  Milk  he  seldom  tastes,  for 
the  Italian  peasant's  cow  is  looked  on  as  a  means 
of  rearing  calves,  arid  not  of  providing  a  nutritious 
beverage  for  himself  and  family ;  and  butter,  it  may 
be  said,  as  a  general  rule,  is  absolutely  unknown. 
The  wife  of  a  peasant,  possessing  several  cows, 
asked  me  one  day  what  it  was,  then  how  it  was 
made,  and  listened  to  my  explanation  with  much 
apparent  interest  and  curiosity.  The  butter  I  used 
at  the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini  came  some  thirty 
miles,  from  the  dairy  farms  at  Florence ;  and  at  Al- 
bano,  a  town  containing  several  hundred  inhabit 
ants,  the  luxury  was  unprocurable ;  indeed,  it  is 
only  in  those  places  in  Italy  where  the  English  con 
gregate,  that  butter  is  entitled  to  take  its  place  in 
the  list  of  Italian  produce. 

From  the  ordinary  dinner  of  the  Tuscan  peasant 
an  English  laborer  would  turn  away  with  a  sensa 
tion  of  scorn  and  disgust,  and  the  more  so,  when  he 
found  that  a  cup  of  water  was  to  prove  its  only  ac 
companiment,  Not  always,  however,  was  the  peas 
ant  solely  indebted  for  a  beverage  to  the  neighbor- 

*  Chestnuts  form  a  staple  article  of  food  only  in  the  mountain  dis 
tricts  where  they  are  grown. 


164  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

ing  well  or  brook,  for,  up  to  a  recent  period  his 
vines,  now  worthless  from  the  blight,  afforded  him 
a  grateful,  wholesome  and  strengthening  drink. 

With  the  fertile  soil  and  the  warm  sun  of  Tus 
cany,  joined  to  the  indefatigable  industry  of  the 
peasant  class,  it  is  quite  evident  that  their  beggarly 
aspect,  their  meagre  food  and  their  cheerless  homes, 
must  arise  from  some  peculiar  evils  in  their  position. 
Devoid,  generally  speaking,  of  property  in  the  soil, 
the  peasantry  are  yet  very  far  from  standing  in  the 
same  relation  to  their  landlords  as  the  two  corres 
ponding  classes  are  to  each  other  in  England.  The 
English  tenant  pays  to  the  proprietor  of  the  farm  he 
cultivates  a  fixed  annual  sum  of  money ;  whilst  the 
Tuscan  tenant  is  bound  to  render  to  his  landlord 
the  half  of  all  the  produce  raised  upon  his  farm. 
Wheat,  wine  and  oil  are  divided,  share  and  share 
alike ;  and  even  in  articles  of  the  most  trifling  kind 
the  halving  system  is  applied.  Of  every  brood  of 
chickens  the  landlord  can  claim  his  half,  and  even 
eggs  may  come  under  the  operation  of  a  similar  rule. 
The  evident  hardship  of  such  terms  is  mitigated  by 
the  fact  that  the  landlord  contributes,  in  some  de 
gree,  towards  the  expenses  of  the  cultivation  of  the 
farm.  lie  provides  the  house,  supplies  a  moiety  of 
the  requisite  seed  corn,  contributes  in  the  same  pro 
portion  towards  the  purchase  of  cattle  and  of  mul 
berry  leaves  for  the  silk- worms.  Even  taking, 
however,  these  landlord  contributions  into  consider- 


THE   PEASANT.  165 

ation,  the  bargain  on  the  tenant's  side  seems  evi 
dently  a  far  from  favorable  one ;  and,  in  the  absence 
of  oppressive  taxation,  to  this  system  of  land  tenure* 
must  be  traced  the  comfortless  and  struggling  life 
led  by  the  frugal  and  industrious  contadino. 

A  secondary  cause  of  the  poverty  that  prevails  in 
Tuscany  may  be  discovered  in  the  density  of  the 
rural  population  and  consequent  smallness  of  the 
farms.  "  We  are  too  thick,"  they  say  themselves ; 
"  our  holdings  are  too  small."  This  is  true  indeed, 
in  many  instances,  where  a  man's  holding  is  limited, 
as  it  sometimes  is,  to  two  acres  in  extent ;  the  entire 
produce  of  which  would  be  required  to  afford  to  him 
and  his  probably  numerous  family  a  comfortable 
subsistence.  Under  such  circumstances,  a  tenant 
must  be  poor,  however  equitable  or  even  liberal  are 
the  terms  on  which  his  farm  is  rented.  But  mingled 
with  holdings  of  this  minute  description  are  others 
evidently  of  a  sufficient  size,  taken  in  connection 
with  the  fertility  of  the  soil,  to  afford,  after  the  pay 
ment  of  a  reasonable  rent,  a  comfortable  subsistence 
to  the  cultivator.  Yet,  in  the  aspect  of  a  farm  so 
circumstanced,  in  the  appearance  of  the  occupier 
and  his  family,  in  their  mode  of  life,  in  the  character 
of  their  dwelling  —  although,  in  all  these  respects,  a 
marked  superiority  over  the  small  holding  class  may 

*  This  mezzeria,  or  in  French  metayer,  system  of  land  tenure  prevails 
throughout  Tuscany. 


166  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

be  observed — the  evidences  of  a  hard  struggling, 
comfortless  existence  are  still  discernible. 

A  system,  founded  on  the  principle  of  equal  divis 
ions  of  the  produce  between  proprietor  and  cultiva 
tor,  wears  to  the  stranger  the  aspect  of  one  exceed 
ingly  difficult  to  carry  out  fairly  in  practice;  on 
speaking  to  the  peasants,  however,  on  this  subject, 
they  all  assured  me  that  the  assignment  of  the 
shares  was  easily  effected.  Fraud  on  the  tenant's 
part  is  checked  by  means  of  the  landlord's  steward, 
who  keeps  a  vigilant  eye  on  the  tenant's  proceed 
ings,  and  who,  from  a  careful  inspection  of  the 
growing  crops,  can  calculate  to  a  nicety  how  many 
sacks  of  grain  should  await  the  landlord  as  his 
rightful  portion.  In  case  the  anticipated  amount 
be  not  forthcoming*,  or  in  case,  through  ne^lisrent 

O '  O  O      O 

culture,  the  capabilities  of  the  soil  are  not  developed 
in  what  may  be  deemed  their  proper  degree,  the 
defaulting  tenant  has  to  yield  his  place  to  a  more 
honest  or  competent  man.  Changes  of  tenantry, 
however,  seem  to  occur  but  rarely ;  for  though  the 
power  of  dismissal  at  a  few  months'  notice  rests 
in  the  landlord's  hands,  it  often  happens  that  one 
generation  succeeds  another  in  the  occupation  of 
the  same  house  and  land.  Cases  do  of  course  occur 
from  time  to  time,  where,  from  exaction  on  the 
landlord's  part,  or  fraud  or  negligence  on  the  ten 
ant's  side,  one  occupier  gives  place  to  another  in  a 
farm ;  but,  as  a  general  rule,  the  peasant's  home 


THE  PEASANT.  167 

remains  unchanged,  if  not  for  successive  generations, 
at  least  for  many  successive  years. 

Amongst  the  tile-roofed  dwellings  that  thickly 
dot  the  country,  there  may  be  seen  every  here  and 
there  one  wearing  an  air  of  greater  dignity  than  the 
rest,  one  possessing  the  luxury  of  glass  windows, 
and  making  a  little  pretension  to  embellishment  in 
the  way  of  paint.  This  dwelling,  on  inquiry,  the 
stranger  is  pretty  sure  to  find,  is  the  one  in  which 
the  steward  — fattore,  as  he  is  called  —  resides.  A 
very  important  personage  is  this  fattore  under  the 
land  system  of  Tuscany.  Into  his  hands  the  land 
lord — invariably  a  resident  in  town  for  at  least  nine 
months  in  the  year  —  commits  the  management  of 
his  affairs.  To  HIQ  fattore  must  the  tenant  apply  for 
money  to  help  to  purchase  cattle,  and  all  in  the 
landlord's  covenant  to  supply;  and  to  the  fattore 
must  the  tenant  render  account  of  every  article  of 
agricultural  produce  raised  and  sold.  From  the 
position  and  duties  of  the  fattore,  it  is  quite  evident 
that,  if  dishonestly  inclined,  he  has  every  facility 
to  become  rich  at  the  expense  of  his  employer;  and 
that  such  a  result  frequently  occurs  may  well  be 
credited,  arguing  from  the  common  weaknesses  of 
humanity.  There  is  a  well  known  Tuscan  saying, 
which  embodies  the  popular  creed  and  experience 
on  this  point :  "Fate  mi  fatore  per  un  anno  se  son 
poi'cro  e  il  mio  danno"  says  the  Italian  proverb, 
whose  meaning  runs  in  English  thus :  "  Make  me 


168  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

a  steward  for  a  year,  and  it  is  my  own  fault  if  I  am 
poor."  Easy,  indeed,  it  is  to  believe  that,  from  the 
amount  of  produce,  varying  every  year  according 
to  circumstances,  and  from  the  absence  of  all  check 
over  his  proceedings,  the  steward's  private  stores 
are  often  enriched  by  sacks  of  grain  and  barrels  of 
wine  and  oil  belonging  rightfully  to  his  distant 
employer. 

Notwithstanding  the  proverbially  alleviating  in 
fluences  of  custom,  the  Tuscan  contadini  are  far 
from  being  insensible  to  the  hardships  of  their  lot, 
and  very  far  from  being  reconciled  to  the  poverty  of 
their  condition.  In  particular,  I  found  the  peasant 
women  loud  in  their  complaints  and  lamentations 
upon  this  subject.  "  We  live  like  the  beasts,"  they 
would  exclaim,  when,  at  my  desire,  they  showed  me 
through  their  comfortless  dwellings ;  "to  work 
hard,  and  to  fare  badly,  is  our  lot  from  childhood 
to  the  grave.  The  hot  sun  scorches  us  in  our  hard 
field  work  in  summer,  and  the  cold  winter's  wind, 
as  it  enters  through  the  many  crevices  of  our  wooden 
shutters,  makes  us  shiver  in  our  beds." 

"Oh,  would  to  Heavens  !  I  had  never  married," 
was  a  common  exclamation  with  them,  and  they 
would  often  declare  that  to  rear  up  children  in  any 
kind  of  decency  was  a  task  that  wore  out  their 
lives  with  trouble,  anxiety  and  toil.  "  From  morn 
ing  to  night,"  they  said,  "\ve  slave  and  slave  to  gain 
a  scanty  supply  of  the  commonest  necessaries  of  life. 


THE   PEASANT.  169 

Ah  !  the  hard  existence  which  falls  to  the  lot  of  a 
mother  of  a  family,  can  be  hardly  told." 

Though  from  the  interior  aspect  of  their  dwell 
ings,  it  is  quite  evident  that  an  absence  of  comfort 
has  invariably  characterized  the  homes  of  the  Tus 
can  peasantry,  it  cannot  be  disputed  that  their  po 
sition  has  been  much  deteriorated  by  the  vine 
disease,  which  has,  for  the  last  eight  years,  prevailed 
universally  in  Tuscany.  The  Tuscan  grape  was  in 
former  times  famous  for  richness  and  for  sweetness, 
and  the  wine  it  yielded  was  highly  prized.  Accord 
ing  to  the  best  authority,  the  process  of  wine-making 
was  better  understood,  and  a  greater  number  of 
good  wines  was  produced,  in  the  Tuscan  dominions, 
than  in  any  other  part  of  Italy.  From  France, 
from  Spain,  from  the  Canaries,  the  best  species  of 
vines  have  been  imported  by  successive  Grand 
Dukes.  The  Montepulciano  wine,  termed  by  an 
Italian  poet  d'ogni  vino  il  re,  ("  the  king  of  all 
wines,")  was  a  product  of  the  Tuscan  State.  The 
Aleatico,  the  Columbano,  the  Trcbbiano,  the  Vernaccia, 
also  enjoyed  a  high  repute.  The  rocky  hills  of  Chi- 
anti  produced  a  fine  red  wine  ;  and  from  Artimino 
came  a  claret  that  was  highly  famed.  In  those  days 
the  wine-barrels  of  the  peasant  were  never  dry,  and 
every  road-side  tavern  offered  to  the  weary  way 
farer,  for  a  trifling  coin,  a  refreshing  and  grateful 
drink.  In  those  days  autumn  was  crowned  with 
beauty  and  mirth  ;  and  whilst  the  eye  feasted  on 


170  LIFE   IN    TUSCANY. 

the  sight  of  the  rich  pendent  clusters  of  bright-col 
ored  fruit,  the  ear  drank  in  with  pleasure  the  joyous 
sounds  that  came  floating  in  the  air  from  the  vine 
yards,  where  the  busy  vintagers  plied  their  task. 

But  now,  contrasted  with  the  scenes  of  former 
years,  sad  is  the  change  which  the  universal  preva 
lence  of  the  vine  disease  has  effected  in  the  au 
tumnal  aspect  of  Tuscany.  2s"o  longer  do  rich 
clusters  of  green  and  purple  grapes  present  them 
selves  in  countless  numbers  to  the  traveler's  view — 
no  longer  does  the  air  resound  with  the  vintagers' 
mirthful  voice  and  song.  Though  from  tree  to  tree 
the  vine  still  twines  its  slender  stems,  and  by  road 
side  fences,  in  fields,  by  cottage  doors,  and  on  ter 
raced  heights,  its  graceful  foliage  meets  the  view  ; 
the  small,  gnarled,  unsightly  knots  of  dried-up, 
cracked,  and  blackened  juiceless  berries,  which  pro 
trude  amongst  the  changing  leaves,  are  a  hideous 
mockery  and  corpse-like  image  of  that  beautiful  and 
delicious  fruit,  which  in  every  age  has  been  the 
favorite  theme  of  poetry  and  song.  The  wine-press 
of  the  peasant  stands  unused,  his  barrels  are  dry 
and  empty ;  and  as  autumn  after  autumn  the  blight 
ed  produce  of  his  vineyard  meets  his  eye,  his  heart 
sinks  within  him  in  despair,  although  he  fails  not 
still  to  utter  fervent  prayers  for  the  recurrence  of 
the  good  old  times. 

"Not  merely,  however,  does  the  peasant  mourn  the 
loss  of  a  pleasant  beverage,  in  the  destruction  of  his 


THE    PEASANT.  171 

grape  crop  ;  this  privation  forms  but  one  of  others 
still  more  grievous,  arising  from  that  source.  In 
former  years,  when  the  vine  yielded  an  abundant 
and  delicious  fruit,  the  peasant  could  calculate,  after 
deducting  the  landlord's  share,  on  the  possession  of 
many  more  barrels  of  wine  than  what  would  be 
required  for  his  own  and  family's  use.  This  surplus 
(always  the  best)  being  sold,  afforded  the  means  of 
purchasing,  besides  many  little  comforts,  articles  of 
prime  necessity,  such  as  clothes.  "  Our  wine  was 
food,  and  drink,  and  covering  to  us,"  said  a  peasant, 
talking  on  the  subject  to  me:  "it  quenched  our 
thirst,  and  refreshed  us  in  the  summer's  heat,  it 
warmed  us  in  the  winter's  cold,  it  gave  us  strength 
to  work,  it  enabled  us  to  do  with  far  less  food  than 
we  eat  now,  it  bought  us  clothing  for  ourselves  and 
children.  "With  these  old  worn-out  garments  that 
you  see,  we  must  content  ourselves,  until  the  Al 
mighty  is  pleased  in  his  good  providence  to  give  us 
back  our  wine  again." 

With  not  less  fondness  than  the  Irishman  clings 
to  the  potato,  does  the  Tuscan  peasant  to  the  vine. 
Though  now  for  several  years  nothing  but  shriveled 
bunches  of  arid,  blighted  berries  has  rewarded  his 
care  and  toil,  he  still,  spring  after  spring,  devotes 
day  after  day  of  his  precious  time  to  the  training 
and  pruning  of  his  once  valuable,  but  now  worth 
less,  tree.  Anxiously  he  watches  the  forming  of  the 
fruit  and  the  sprouting  of  the  leaves ;  and  learning 


172  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

by  experience  to  put  no  confidence  in  the  luxuriant 
aspect  of  the  vine  in  early  summer,  he  waits  with 
keen  solicitude,  with  a  kind  of  despairing  hope,  for 
the  arrival  of  the  time  at  which  the  first  symptoms 
of  the  disease  are  accustomed  to  appear.  Closer 
and  closer  does  he  examine  his  vines,  as  the  month 
of  June  wears  onward  to  its  end ;  he  calls  to  mind 
the  date  on  which  at  the  last,  or  previous  years,  he 
had  marked  the  presence  of  the  disease,  and  if  the 
date  passes,  without  the  dreaded  signs,  his  hope 
grows  stronger :  the  curse,  he  begins  to  think,  has 
been  withdrawn.  His  spirits  rise  at  the  prospect  of 
a  recurrence  of  the  good  old  times,  and  he  dreams 
of  tasting  once  again  a  glass  of  his  loved  wine. 
Vain  hope,  which  the  morrow  perchance  dispels. 
To  a  stranger's  eye,  the  whitish  aspect  of  the  leaf, 
or  a  slight  curling  of  its  edges,  appears  but  the 
effect  of  chance  or  accident,  of  dust  or  heat.  But 
the  peasant  knows  too  well  those  fatal  indications. 
His  brow  contracts,  and  his  face  becomes  overshad 
owed  with  a  cloud,  as  he  notes  indications  which,  he 
knows  well,  forebode  another  wineless  year.  As  day 
by  day  leaf  after  leaf  assumes  a  similar  look  and 
hue,  he  feels  assured  that  the  doom  of  his  crop  of 
grapes  is  sealed  ;  though  as  yet  the  thick  clusters  of 
small  green  berries  show  not  a  visible  symptom  of 
disease.  But  not  the  less  is  the  disease  at  work, 
poisoning  the  life-blood  of  the  plant.  As  time  wears 
on,  the  berries,  instead  of  growing  larger  under  the 


THE    PEASANT.  173 

influence  of  the  glowing  sun,  acquire  a  dry,  shrivel 
ed,  whitened  look :  often  cracking,  they  burst  in  two ; 
some  dry  up  utterly  ;  others,  stunted  and  acid,  make 
a  faint  attempt  to  attain  a  purple  hue  ;  another  por 
tion  assumes  a  mildewed  look  ;  another  turns  "black, 
or  rusty-brown.  "With  the  recollection  of  former 
times  still  vivid  in  his  mind — with  the  remembrance 
of  the  glorious  clusters  of  bright  green  and  purple 
grapes  that  in  former  vintage  seasons  met  his  view — 
well  may  the  peasant  turn  away  from  his  blighted 
vines  and  their  worthless  fruit,  with  feelings  of  dis 
gust,  despair  and  sorrow  combined. 

In  the  season  of  1856,  the  vine  disease  did  not 
rage  quite  so  violently  in  Tuscany  as  it  had  done 
in  the  previous  six  or  seven  years  :  here  and  there 
occasionally,  amongst  the  blighted  produce,  a  few 
clusters  of  sound  grapes  were  to  be  found.  In  some 
large  vineyards,  even,  there  was  an  attempt  at  mak 
ing  wine  ;  but,  judging  from  \vhat  I  witnessed  per 
sonally,  the  attempt  resulted  in  a  lamentable  failure  : 
as  far,  at  least,  as  the  production  of  a  pleasant  or 
healthy  beverage  was  concerned  ;  for,  in  addition 
to  the  really  small  quantity  of  -untainted  fruit  that 
was  to  be  found,  the  grapes  were  gathered  before 
they  were  nearly  ripe,  in  consequence  of  the  pilfer 
ing  by  children  of  the  rare  dainty.  And  from  a 
heterogeneous  mixture  of  unripe  grapes  and  of  grapes 
both  slightly  and  extensively  affected  by  disease,  the 
result  may  be  inferred — a  wine,  a  mere  mockery  of 


174  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY/ 

the  name :  pale,  thin,  weak,  and  as  acrid  as  a  sloe- 
juice. 

One  absurd  theory  as  to  the  origin  of  the  vine  dis 
ease  prevails  extensively  amongst  the  Tuscan  peas 
antry  ;  the  smoke  arising  from  the  coal  used  in  the 
engines  being  alleged  to  exercise  a  deteriorating 
influence  on  the  air ;  and  very  frequently  I  was 
asked  my  opinion  whether  the  railroads  were  really 
the  cause.  u  Were  there  railroads  in  England  ?"  I 
was  asked  invariably  by  the  contadina  in  reference 
to  this  point.  On  my  giving  an  affirmative  reply, 
the  question  immediately  succeeded — if  the  vines 
were  healthy  there  ?  —  a  question  the  answer  to 
which,  as  may  wrell  be  supposed,  tended  nothing  to 
convict  or  acquit  the  railroads  of  the  crime  alleged. 

In  addition  to  the  railroad  theory  of  the  origin  of 
the  vine  disease,  another  was  started  no  less  sage  ; 
but,  unfortunately  for  the  adherents  of  this  latter 
creed,  time  proved  its  fallacy  in  the  most  irrefutable 
way.  As  before  stated,  from  1847  to  1856,  owing 
to  causes  of  a  political  nature,  no  public  carnival 
festivities  took  place.  2s"ow,  as  it  happened  that 
with  the  first  year  of  this  omission  the  vine  disease 
appeared,  and  continued  to  rage  violently  in  the 
subsequent  eight  years  of  suspended  carnivals 
throughout  the  land,  an  inference  was  drawn  from 
this  coincidence  by  some  wise  heads,  that  there  must 
be  a  mysterious  connection  between  the  two  events — 
that,  in  fact,  the  vine  disease  originated  in  the  non- 


THE    PEASANT.  175 

observance  of  the  season  set  apart  for  popular  fes 
tivity  from  time  immemorial  in  Tuscany.  From 
this  idea  followed,  as  a  logical  consequence,  the 
belief  that  with  the  restoration  of  the  carnival  in 
1856,  the  vines  would  recover  their  ancient  vigor ;  a 
belief  unfortunately  doomed  to  be  destroyed  by  the 
autumn  experiences  of  that  year. 

Little  is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  ideas  such  as 
those  described  in  reference  to  the  origin  of  the  vine 
disease,  should  prevail  extensively  amongst  a  peas 
antry  so  ignorant  as  is  that  of  Tuscany  almost  uni 
versally.  Throughout  the  country,  schools  are  rare ; 
and,  in  those  that  exist,  a  very  infinitesimal  amount 
of  knowledge  is  communicated.  To  the  teaching  of 
the  arts  of  reading  and  writing,  the  endeavor  of  the 
master  is  generally  limited ;  and  to  the  acquirement 
of  these  two  branches  of  knowledge,  are  the  aim 
and  desire  of  the  pupil  as  generally  restricted.  Even 
amongst  persons  occupying  what  may  be  termed  a 
respectable  position  in  society,  and  amongst  persons 
endowed  by  nature  with  a  considerable  degree  of 
intelligence  and  quickness  of  comprehension,  the 
grossest  ignorance  of  the  rudiments  of  knowledge 
may  be  often  found  prevailing.  In  the  country 
lodging-houses  and  hotels  where  I  have  been  stay 
ing  in  Tuscany,  it  was  no  rare  thing  to  find  that,  to 
the  master  or  mistress  of  the  dwelling,  the  simplest 
Italian  book  was  about  as  intelligible  as  an  inscrip 
tion  in  the  Cuneiform  characters  might  prove  to  the 


176  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

world  in  general.  Often  did  it  fall  to  my  lot  to  keep 
an  account  of  expenses  incurred,  the  correctness  of 
which  was  only  tested  by  some  primitive  system  of 
self-invented  mental  arithmetic.  At  the  very  best, 
an  imperfect  acquaintance  with  the  arts  of  reading 
and  writing,  and  a  mere  smattering  of  arithmetic, 
constitute  the  utmost  amount  of  knowledge  obtain 
able,  or  obtained,  by  the  rural  population  of  Tus 
cany  at  the  present  day. 

Did  the  peasant  women  of  Tuscany  pay  more 
attention  to  their  appearance ;  were  they  neater, 
cleaner,  and  tidier  in  their  persons,  they  would  de 
cidedly,  in  regard  to  looks,  be  entitled  to  considera 
ble  praise ;  for  nature  has  been  for  the  most  part 
decidedly  liberal  and  kind  to  them  in  that  respect. 
But,  as  it  is,  with  their  uncombed  locks,  their  dirty 
faces,  their  slatternly  style  of  dress,  and  their  com 
plexion  spoiled  by  exposure  to  the  weather,  notwith 
standing  their  large,  bright,  hazel  eyes,  their  white 
teeth,  and  their  thick  tresses  of  black  hair,  they 
often  present  an  exterior  far  from  agreeable.  The 
bloom  of  youth  fades  rapidly,  owing  to  the  hard 
life  they  lead,  and  owing  also,  perhaps,  in  some  de 
gree,  to  the  senseless  sort  of  out-door  head-dress 
they  wear,  which  leaves  their  faces  completely  ex 
posed  to  a  summer's  scorching  sun.  Strange  it  is. 
that  almost  universally  in  every  land  and  clime,  in 
every  class  of  society,  we  find  the  dictates  of  com 
fort  and  convenience  completely  disregarded  and 


THE    PEASANT.  177 

set  aside  by  women,  in  reference  to  the  form  and 
fashion  of  their  attire.  In  Tuscany,  where  the  mid 
day's  summer  sun  shines  with  a  dazzling,  blinding 
glare — where  the  heat  from  the  same  source  pours 
down  with  a  scorching  intensity — the  peasant  women 
seem  to  have  been  unable  to  devise  a  better  cover 
ing  for  the  head  than  a  large  straw  hat,  the  limp 
leaf  of  which,  instead  of  shading  the  face,  for  the 
most  part  hangs  or  flaps  back  quite  over  the  crown, 
or  a  cotton  handkerchief  folded  crossways,  placed 
on  the  back  part  of  the  head,  and  tied  by  its  two 
long  ends  beneath  the  chin.  In  neither  case  is  the 
face  protected  from  the  heat,  or  the  eyes  shielded 
from  the  light,  in  the  least  degree ;  the  effects  of 
this  exposure  are  seen  in  the  coarse  reddened  skin, 
and  in  the  forehead  prematurely  furrowed  by  the 
instinctive  effort  made  to  screen  the  eyes  from  the 
dazzling  glare  :  an  effort  that  results  in  the  habitual 
contraction  of  the  brows.  In  the  country  districts 
only  on  festa  days,  when  their  best  attire  is  donned 
to  go  to  mass,  do  the  countrywomen  ever  resort  to 
any  means  to  shade  their  faces  from  the  sun  ;  and 
then  the  means  employed  to  effect  this  purpose 
wears  to  a  stranger's  eye  quite  a  ludicrous  air,  con 
sisting,  as  it  does,  of  a  large  fan  held  up  perpen 
dicularly  before  the  eyes. 

The  observations  made  in  reference  to  the  appear 
ance  of  the  peasant  women  of  Tuscany  will  also 

apply  in  a  great  degree  to  the  exterior  of  the  men : 
12 


178  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

very  good  looking  specimens  of  humanity,  for  the 
most  part,  are  they,  with  their  Sunday  faces  and 
their  Sunday  clothes;   but  on  working  days  their 
unwashed  and  poverty-stricken  look  detracts  con 
siderably  from  their  natural  advantages.     Though 
in  stature  below  the  average  English  height,  as  are 
the  women  also,  they  are,  for  the  most  part,  strongly 
and  symmetrically  formed — a  circumstance  that  ap 
pears  something  of  a  marvel,  considering  the  bar 
barous  system  of  compression  to  which  infancy  is 
universally   subjected   in   Italy,   by  the   means   of 
swaddling   clothing.      Ignorant   as   they   are,   the 
manners  of  both  the  men  and  women  are  character 
ized  by  a  politeness  that,  coming  from  the  heart,  is 
far  more  winning  than  the  cold  courtesy  which  is 
the  offspring  of  artificial  rules ;  and  very  pleasantly 
and  melodiously  did  their  "felice  giorno"  or  "felice 
sera"  with  which  they  never  failed  to  greet  me,  fall 
upon  my  ears.     On  entering  their  dwellings,  the  in 
mates  there  would  exert  themselves  to  perform  the 
rites   of  hospitality  to   the   stranger   visitor;   and 
whilst  many  a  regret  was  expressed  that  they  had 
not  a  glass  of  wine  to  offer  me,  I  was  often  present 
ed  with  fruit  and  flowers,  and  in  default  of  these, 
some  young  pea  or  bean  pods  (the  contents  of  which 
it  is  the  custom  to  eat  raw  in  Italy)  were  put  into 
my  hands.     Could  I  not  stay  a  little  longer  ?  and 
would  I  not  come  again  ?  were  the  phrases  I  con 
stantly  heard  on  my  taking  leave ;  and  the  burden 


THE   PEASANT.  179 

of  many  an  unfulfilled  verbal  obligation  in  this  re 
gard  is  resting  on  my  conscience  to  this  day. 

Genuinely  courteous  as  I  ever  found  the  peasantry, 
the  urgent  solicitations  which  I  invariably  received 
from  them  to  repeat  my  visits  to  their  dwellings, 
were  the  result,  most  probably,  of  a  feeling  stronger 
even  than  politeness  acting  upon  their  minds.  Far 
different  from  the  country  life  of  England  is  that  of 
Tuscany,  for  whilst  in  the  former  three  classes  of 
society  may  be  found  existing  side  by  side,  in  the 
latter  there  is  but  one.  In  England  the  cottage  of 
the  peasant  rises  in  close  vicinity  to  the  dwelling 
of  the  retired  tradesman,  the  independent  yeoman, 
or  the  residence  of  the  peer  and  country  gentleman ; 
and  from  this  arises  a  mingling  in  some  degree  of 
the  upper  and  middle  with  the  lower  class  of  society. 
The  ladies  from  the  Hall  superintend,  perhaps,  in 
dustrial  schools,  visit  the  cottages  of  the  poor,  send 
bowls  of  nourishing  broth  to  pining  invalids,  and 
gifts  of  money  or  clothes  to  such  as  are  in  need, 
whilst,  in  a  more  limited  degree,  the  retired  trades 
man's  and  the  yeoman's  family  contribute  to  the 
comfort  and  well-being  of  the  necessitous  classes  of 
the  community  amongst  which  they  live.  But  in 
Tuscany  a  very  different  structure  of  society,  a  very 
different  order  of  things  exists.  Not  scattered  over 
the  surface  of  the  country,  as  in  England,  but  con 
centrated  in  towns,  are  to  be  found  in  Tuscany  the 
upper  and  middle  classes  of  Italian  society.  It  is 


180  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

true  that,  occasionally,  here  and  there,  the  traveler's 
attention  is  attracted  by  a  mansion  whose  size  and 
air  announce  it  to  be  a  rich  man's  property ;  but  for 
at  least  nine,  and  probably  ten,  months  in  the  year, 
that  mansion,  large  and  handsome  as  it  is,  remains 
uninhabited ;  for  the  rich  Signor  Magnane,  or  the 
Conte  Baldino,  loves  too  well  (as  does  also  his  fami 
ly)  the  town,  with  its  society,  its  amusements,  its 
parties,  balls,  concerts  and  theatres,  to  relish  a  quiet 
country  existence.  Except,  therefore,  during  the 
months  of  July  and  August,  when  the  heat  renders 
the  atmosphere  of  a  town  unhealthy  and  oppressive, 
the  nobleman's  or  gentleman's  country  seat  is  con 
signed  to  silence  and  solitude.  Even,  too,  for  the 
time  that  the  family  may  be  resident  at  the  place, 
no  intercourse  of  any  kind  occurs  between  them 
and  the  peasantry  in  their  vicinity. 

The  Italian  lady  never  walks  out  if  she  can  avoid 
it,  except  perhaps  in  some  gay  promenade,  where 
she  may  display  her  costly  toilet,  to  excite  the 
admiration  or  envy  of  her  acquaintances.  Having 
no  conception  of  any  other  kind  of  pleasure  than 
that  arising  from  excitement,  no  idea  of  any  other 
duty  than  that  of  striving  to  look  handsome,  she 
spends  the  " mllegiatura"  season  in  listless  indolence, 
sleeping  away  the  greatest  portion  of  the  long,  te 
dious  twenty-four  hours  of  her  daily  existence.  The 
very  idea  of  visiting  a  peasant's  cottage  and  talking 
to  the  inmates,  would  disgust  her  excessively — she, 


THE  PEASANT.  181 

with,  her  silks  and  satins,  her  long  trailing  robes,  to 
pass  the  threshhold  of  their  doors  —  she,  rich  and 
well-born  as  she  is,  to  concern  herself  with  the  in 
terests  of  poor  and  ill-clad  people  —  what  a  prepos 
terous  supposition,  what  an  absurdity !  Not  that 
she  is  devoid  of  charity — not  at  all ;  but  her  idea  of 
that  virtue  begins  and  ends  with  dropping  a  soldo 
into  a  beggar's  hat,  with  conferring  a  crazia  on  some 
distorted  cripple,  or  of  contributing  a  paolo  to  the 
mendicant  friar,  who,  with  box  in  hand,  solicits 
alms  for  the  liberation  of  some  suffering  soul  from 
purgatory. 

With  the  same  tastes  for  social  pleasures  as  the 
class  described,  the  prosperous  merchant  or  trades 
man  never  thinks  of  providing  himself  with  a  coun 
try  house,  where  he  may  take  up  his  residence  per 
manently,  and  spend  his  declining  days.  At  the 
most  he  builds,  or  rents,  a  villa  (probably  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  a  town),  to  which  he  and  his 
family  repair  for  a  month  or  six  weeks,  perhaps,  in 
the  hot  season  of  the  year.  Thus,  unlike  England, 
where  country  life  presents  to  view  a  blending  of 
the  different  classes  of  society,  that  of  Tuscany,  it 
may  be  said,  exhibits  one  class  alone.  Remote  from 
the  sphere  of  the  affluent  and  well-born,  the  peasant 
lives  and  dies,  and  in  the  stylish  carriage  which  en 
velops  him  in  a  cloud  of  dust  as  it  dashes  past  him 
on  the  highway,  he  but  very  rarely  catches  even  a 


182  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

momentary  glimpse  of  those  whom  the  labor  of  his 
hands  goes  to  sustain. 

Cut  off,  thus,  from  all  intercourse  with  the  upper 
classes  of  the  land,  a  strange  sight  did  it  appear  to 
the  peasant  and  his  family  to  behold  a  person  in 
the  attire  of  a  lady  entering  their  doors.  When 
in  addition,  too,  they  found  that  the  lady  was  a 
foreigner,  and  had  come  from  a  country  which  they 
had  all  heard  of  as  a  country  supremely  rich  and 
grand,  the  marvel  at,  and  interest  in,  the  apparition 
was  heightened  considerably.  Many  were  the  ques 
tions  I  had  to  answer  about  myself  and  the  country 
from  which  I  came.  "  Was  I  married  ?  How  did 
the  peasants  live  in  England  ?  Were  they  rich  ? 
Did  the  vines  give  good  wine?"  Being  obliged  in 
answer  to  this  latter  question  to  confess  the  poverty 
of  England  in  regard  to  vines,  my  words  were  al 
ways  echoed  by  my  auditors  in  a  tone  of  profound 
surprise.  "  "No  vines  in  England  !  was  it  possible  ? 
how  strange !  they  had  always  thought  that  Eng 
land  was  the  richest  and  most  fertile  country  in  the 
world."  Still  greater  and  greater  grew  their  won 
der  when  they  heard  that  not  only  had  we  no  vines 
in  England,  but  that  we  were  destitute  also  of  olives, 
figs  and  maize.  At  this  information,  whilst  exchang 
ing  glances  of  astonishment,  they  would  exclaim, 
Sanctissima  Vergine !  what  a  poor  country  it  must 
be !  how  can  the  people  there  manage  to  support 
their  lives?"  The  commiserating  tone  in  which 


THE   PEASANT.  183 

this  remark,  or  others  of  a  similar  purport,  was  cer 
tain  to  be  uttered,  always  amused  me  highly ;  and 
no  less  droll  was  it  to  see  their  puzzled  look,  when 
they  tried  to  reconcile  our  miserable  destitution  of 
the  good  things  of  life — the  absence  of  olives,  wine 
and  maize  —  with  the  fixed  idea  they  entertained, 
that  every  individual  of  the  English  nation  rejoiced 
in  a  commanding  stature  and  brilliant  color,  in  addi 
tion  to  a  well-filled  purse.  Some  concluded  that 
the  air  must  be  very  nourishing,  though  certainly 
the  English  did  not  look  as  if  they  lived  on  air ; 
others  gave  up  the  matter  as  an  inexplicable  mys 
tery,  contenting  themselves  with  repeating  in  a 
marveling  tone  that  it  was  very  strange. 

In  addition  to  the  vine  disease,  the  peasant  has, 
during  these  late  few  years,  been  subjected  to  two 
other  grievances  of  a  serious  kind.  In  consequence 
of  the  expenses  to  which  the  maintenance  of  the 
Austrian  army  of  occupation  in  Tuscany  gave  rise, 
the  land-tax  has  been  increased  considerably  —  a 
measure  severely  felt,  in  consequence  of  the  low 
state  of  the  peasant's  exchequer,  owing  to  the  loss 
of  his  grape  crop.  The  alteration  which  has  re 
cently  taken  place  in  the  laws  relating  to  military 
service  also  is  one  that  affects  the  peasant  very  prej 
udicially.  Under  the  conscription  system  formerly 
in  force  in  Tuscany,  six  years  was  the  term  which 
the  conscript  had  to  serve  ;  but  recently  the  term  of 
years  has  been  increased  to  eight ;  and  in  conse- 


184  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

quence  of  this  increase,  as  well  as  from  the  severe 
system  of  army  discipline  (borrowed  from  Austria), 
that  has  been  lately  introduced,  the  price  of  substi 
tutes  throughout  Tuscany  has  become  double,  or 
even  treble,  what  it  was.  In  former  times  the  peas 
ant,  for  a  few  scudi,  could  easily  find  a  person  will 
ing  to  serve  in  place  of  the  son,  who,  just  arrived  at 
that  time  of  life  when  his  labor  became  most  valu 
able  to  his  family,  had  been  seized  for  military 
bondage  under  the  operation  of  the  conscription 
laws.  Now,  the  peasant,  if  in  such  circumstances 
as  to  render  the  services  of  his  son  an  all-important 
object  to  retain,  must,  from  the  difficulty  of  procur 
ing  substitutes,  pay  a  price  for  one  that,  if  not  at 
times  beyond  his  means,  is  always  beyond  his  power 
of  doing,  without  a  hard  struggle,  entailing  sacri 
fices  of  the  most  painful  kind.  Many  were  the  com 
plaints  and  lamentations  upon  this  subject  that  I 
heard :  and  not  a  little  does  this  grievance  serve 
to  nourish  the  feelings  of  disaffection  towards  the 
Grand  Duke  and  his  government,  which  prevail 
generally  throughout  Tuscany. 

In  some  parts  of  Tuscany  —  for  instance,  in  the 
Lucchese  territory  —  a  considerable  spirit  of  enter 
prise  exists  amongst  the  lower  classes  of  the  com 
munity.  From  amongst  the  dwellers  in  the  chestnut- 
clad  Apennine  hills  and  glens  (as  has  been  already 
stated),  a  large  number  of  hardy  laborers  go  forth 
yearly  to  till  the  Corsican  soil;  others  from  the 


THE   PEASANT.  185 

same  district  wander  off  to  gain  their  bread  some 
way  or  another  in  England  or  America.  Even 
amidst  the  rich  plains  that  encircle  Lucca,  I  found  it 
was  a  common  thing  for  the  younger  male  members 
of  a  large  family  to  seek  employment  in  foreign 
lands.  One  stout  young  lad  I  spoke  to  \ras  on  the 
point  of  starting  off  for  France,  where,  on  a  railroad, 
which  he  said  was  being  made  three  hundred  miles 
beyond  Marseilles,  he  hoped  to  be  employed  at 
wages  of  three  francs  a  day.  Others,  from  the  same 
district,  after  a  voluntary  exile  of  some  years,  had 
returned  from  America,  to  take  up  their  dwelling 
in  their  native  land,  with  an  amount  of  dollars  that 
rendered  them  the  envy  of  their  relations  and 
friends.  To  the  poor  Tuscan  peasant  the  sums  thus 
accumulated,  though  to  English  ideas  moderate  in 
amount,  sound  magnificently  grand ;  for  it  needs 
but  the  possession  of  so  many  scudi  as  might  make 
up  an  income  of  forty  or  fifty  pounds  a  year,  to  con 
fer  on  the  rustic  proprietor  the  reputation  of  a  mil 
lionaire  amongst  his  humble  neigbors. 

Much  as  the  stranger  is  likely  to  be  favorably 
impressed  by  the  courteous  manners  and  industrious 
habits  of  the  Tuscan  peasantry,  it  cannot  escape 
the  observer's  notice  that  much  of  the  comfortless, 
squalid  aspect  of  the  contactings  life  is  caused  by 
circumstances  for  which  they  themselves  are  in  a 
great  degree  to  blame.  ISTot  only  in  the  valleys  of 
the  Arno,  where  the  peasant  is  liable  to  be  dispos- 


186  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

sessed  at  a  few  months'  notice,  but  in  the  plains  of 
Lucca,  where  the  tenant,  so  long  as  he  pays  a  fixed 
annual  rent  of  so  many  sacks  of  corn,  enjoys  a  per 
manent  tenure  of  house  and  land,  the  same  unclean- 
liness  is  to  be  found  prevailing  in  the  habitations  of 
the  peasantry,  as  well  as  in  their  attire  and  persons. 
Small,  indeed,  would  have  been  the  expenditure  of 
money  required  to  whiten  the  smoke  and  dirt-stained 
walls  on  which  I  looked,  and  slight  the  amount  of 
time  which  would  have  satisfied  the  claims  of  per 
sonal  cleanliness.  Though  their  meagre  fare,  their 
homeliness  of  dress,  be  not  the  contactings  fault,  yet 
on  themselves  most  certainly  must  rest  the  blame  of 
wearing  tattered  clothes,  and  living  in  houses  where 
the  dust  and  dirt  of  years  encrust  the  walls,  ceilings, 
floors  and  furniture,  and  where  vermin,  fostered  by 
the  congenial  atmosphere,  swarm  often  in  excess. 
An  indifference  to  cleanliness,  indeed,  partakes  of 
the  nature  of  a  national  vice,  which  is  equally  ap 
parent  in  carpets  stained  and  disfigured  by  spitting, 
amongst  the  upper  classes,  as  in  the  foul  dwellings 
of  the  poor,  and  in  the  peasant  woman's  disheveled 
hair  and  unwashed  face.  A  happy  day  will  it  be 
for  Italy  when  the  great  merits  of  soap  and  water 
come  to  be  generally  recognized. 

The  production  of  silk  constitutes  an  important 
part  of  the  avocations  of  the  Tuscan  peasantry;  for 
in  almost  every  contadino's  house  silk- worms  are 
reared.  Few  farms,  however  small,  are  devoid  of 


THE   PEASANT.  187 

mulberry  trees ;  but  as  in  some  farms  there  are  more, 
and  in  others  less,  than  their  cultivators  have  need 
of,  an  active  traffic  in  mulberry  leaves,  during  the 
spring  and  summer  months,  takes  place.  Some 
mulberry  trees  are  forced  to  produce  three  crops  of 
leaves  in  the  season  to  feed  three  successive  genera 
tions  of  silk- worms ;  but  the  trees  are  considered  to 
be  much  weakened  and  injured  by  being  so  fre 
quently  docked  and  stripped.  The  hatching  of  the 
eggs  of  the  silk- worm  commences  in  the  month  of 
April,  and  is  generally  effected  by  artificial  heat ; 
the  women  carrying  them  about  their  persons  during 
the  day,  and  placing  them  beneath  the  mattresses 
of  their  beds  at  night.  On  Rogation  Sunday,  the 
peasants,  both  men  and  women,  with  the  eggs  of  the 
silk-worms  in  their  bosoms,  go  in  procession  to 
church  to  solicit  the  protection  and  favor  of  San 
Jolo,  from  whose  wounds,  it  is  believed,  the  silk 
worms  issued.  As  at  the  beginning  of  the  process, 
so  the  conclusion  of  the  silk  harvest  is  terminated 
by  a  religious  solemnity ;  for  each  peasant,  taking 
from  his  store  a  few  cocoons,  repairs  with  them  to 
his  parish  church,  and  lays  them  on  the  altar  as  a 
thank-offering  to  providence.  These  cocoons,  so 
deposited,  become  the  property  of  the"  priest,  who 
sells  them,  either  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor,  or  to 
enrich  his  own  exchequer,  according  as  he  may  be 
charitably  or  selfishly  inclined. 

The  silk  crop  is  an  uncertain  one ;  for,  even  with 


188  LIFE  IN   TUSCANY. 

the  greatest  care,  the  silk-worms  occasionally  become 
diseased  and  die.  A  good  deal  of  skill  is  requisite 
in  their  management,  to  produce  a  prosperous  re 
sult  ;  for  at  certain  stages  of  the  silk-worm's  growth 
they  become  extremely  susceptible  to  harm — the 
slightest  touch  or  the  most  trifling  noise,  as  I  was 
told,  being  capable  of  affecting  them  prejudicially. 
Such  crises  occur  during  the  five  moulting  sleeps 
through  which  they  pass ;  after  each  of  which  they 
waken  up,  increased  in  size  and  with  increased  vigor 
of  appetite.  Progressively,  however,  as  their  eating 
capabilities  are  developed  during  their  successive 
states  of  repose,  the  wakening  up  from  the  last  sleep, 
called  la  grossa,  arrayed  in  a  final  coat,  is  followed 
by  a  display  of  gormandizing  powers  astonishingly 
great :  ravenous  with  hunger,  they  eat  on  incessantly 
for  a  space  of  eight  or  ten  days ;  the  supply  of  leaves 
required  for  their  never-ceasing  repast  is  enormously 
large ;  *  and  a  happy  moment  is  it  for  the  contadino, 
when  he  sees  the  worms  refuse  the  food  that  for 
many  days  they  had  been  devouring  so  voraciously, 
and,  climbing  up  the  branches  of  the  trees  he  has 
placed  beside  them,  begin  their  work. 

Very  assiduously  do  the  worms  labor  at  their  task 
for  four  or  five  days'  time;  at  the  end  of  which, 
having  quite  enveloped  themselves  in  their  silken 
sepulchre,  they  undergo  a  different  fate,  according 

*  A  silk-worm  consumes  within  thirty  days  a  quantity  of  food  about 
6  0,000  times  its  own  primitive  weight. 


THE   PEASANT.  189 

to  the  purposes  they  are  allotted  to  fulfill.  Such 
cocoons  as  are  destined  to  manufacturing  uses  are 
plunged  into  boiling  water  to  kill  the  worm  within ; 
whilst  other  cocoons — which  are  reserved  for  seed, 
as  it  is  termed — are  strung  together  on  a  piece  of 
thread,  and  hung  up  against  a  wall.  From  the 
cocoons  treated  in  this  latter  way  there  issue,  in  a 
few  days'  time,  large  white  moths  of  the  most  slug 
gish  nature,  which  never  quit  the  cloth  prepared 
for  their  reception :  there,  having  deposited  their 
eggs,  they  languish  and  die. 

Not  to  the  present,  but  to  the  former,  political 
institutions  of  Tuscany,  is  the  garden-like  cultiva 
tion  of  the  country  ascribable.  "When  the  rest  of 
Europe  exhibited  nothing  but  poverty  and  barbar 
ism,  the  open  country  belonging  to  each  republican 
city  of  Italy  had  its  fertility  developed  by  an  active 
and  industrious  peasantry,  through  the  medium  of  a 
system  of  scientific  agriculture.  Though  then,  as 
now,  the  proprietors  of  the  soil  were  inhabitants  of 
the  towns,  the  merchant  landowners  of  former  times 
contributed  money  far  more  liberally  towards  the 
cultivation  of  the  land,  than  do  now  their  impover 
ished  successors.  By  them  alone  was  the  land-tax 
paid  ;  at  their  cost  were  dikes  and  canals  construct 
ed  :  the  former  as  a  preservative  against  inundations, 
the  latter  to  increase  by  irrigation  the  productive 
powers  of  the  rich  plains.  The  grand  canal  of  Mi 
lan,  which  spreads  the  water  of  the  Ticino  over  a 


190  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

large  part  of  Lombardy,  owes  its  existence  to  those 
times ;  and  at  this  day  in  Italy,*  after  a  lapse  of  five 
centuries,  the  districts  formerly  free,  and  cultivated 
by  a  free  peasantry,  are  easily  distinguishable  from 
those  where  feudalism  prevailed.  Through  those 
five  ages,  amidst  all  the  changes  that  have  occurred 
in  Tuscany  as  well  as  in  Lombardy,  have  been 
handed  down  from  father  to  son,  the  knowledge 
and  the  practice  of  a  system  of  agriculture,  which 
offered  in  bygone  times,  as  it  does  now,  a  model  for 
imitation  to  otjier  lands.  And  much,  truly,  is  it  to 
be  desired  that  the  time  may  arrive  before  very  long, 
when  the  Tuscan  peasant's  home  will  bear  in  char 
acter  some  resemblance  to  his  fields  ;  that  the  riches, 
neatness  and  cleanliness  without  will  find  a  counter 
part  in  the  scenes  within  ;  and  that  his  toil,  furnish 
ing  him  with  more  than  the  mere  means  of  life,  shall 
surround  him  with  some  of  the  comforts  of  a  civil 
ized  existence. 

*  Sisraondi. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS. 

IMP 

USC ANY  enjoys  the  reputation  of 
being  the  cheapest  place  of  residence 
in  all  Italy ;  and,  certainly,  though 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Grand  Duchy 
'complain  bitterly  of  the  rise  of  prices  in  arti 
cles  of  food  that  has  recently  taken  place,  to 
the  English  stranger  the  cost  of  living,  even 
under  the  present  order  of  things,  will  appear 
surprisingly  low.  A  Tuscan  scudo,  the  value  of 
which  is  about  4s.  M.  in  English  money,  will,  as  far 
as  lodging,  food  and  amusements  are  concerned,  go 
nearly  as  far  in  Florence  in  ministering  to  such 
wants  as  a  sovereign  in  London.  For  instance,  in 
the  newest  and  cleanest  part  of  Florence,  in  the  im 
mediate  vicinity  of  the  Piazza  Maria  Antonia,  a 
bed-room  and  a  sitting-room  of  moderate  size  on 
the  first  floor,  most  comfortably  furnished,  can  be 
procured  at  the  rate  of  twenty-seven  shillings  a 


192  LIFE   IN    TUSCANY. 

month.  For  two  paoli,  eleven-pence  English  money, 
an  excellent  simple  dinner  from  a  cook's  shop,  or 
trattoria,  can  be  obtained,  consisting  of  a  soup,  two 
dishes  of  meat,  and  one  dish  of  some  kind  of  vege 
table.  For  a  couple  of  paoli,  also,  the  doors  of  the 
opera-house  fly  open,  wrhere  first-rate  vocalists, 
like  Mdlle.  Piccolomini,  are  heard,  and  first-rate 
operas  are  performed.  In  short,  for  persons  of  scanty 
means,  nowhere,  perhaps,  can  the  always  unpleas 
ant  duties  of  economy  be  so  agreeably  practiced  as 
in  the  Tiiscan  capital. 

In  England,  in  London  especially,  sixty  pounds  a 
year  constitutes  an  income  on  which  a  family  belong 
ing  to  the  middle  classes  wrould  find  it  difficult  to 
keep  up  an  appearance  of  gentility ;  in  Florence, 
on  the  contrary,  an  annual  revenue  amounting  to 
that  sum  confers  on  the  proprietor  and  his  family 
the  means  of  enjoying  many  of  the  luxuries  of  life. 
Instead  of  the  small,  mean,  ill-furnished  rooms,  in 
some  narrow  street,  in  an  unfashionable  quarter  of 
the  town,  to  which  the  recipient  of  sixty  pounds  a 
year  must  necessarily,  in  London,  be  confined,  the 
Florentine,  with  the  same  amount  of  means,  can 
provide  himself  and  family  with  large  well-furnished 
apartments  in  an  airy  square.  With  an  Italian 
family,  whose  circumstances  were  such  as  I  have 
described,  I  was  well  acquainted  ;during  my  resi 
dence  in  Florence.  They  occupied  a  suit  of  rooms 
in  the  Piazza  Santa  Croce,  one  of  the  principal 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  193 

piazzas  in  the  town.  Their  drawing-room  was  a  spa 
cious,  lofty  apartment,  not  only  well,  but  elegantly, 
furnished :  a  large  mirror,  in  a  handsome  frame, 
decorated  the  wall ;  on  a  handsome  pier  table  under 
neath  the  glass,  stood  a  highly  ornamented  French 
clock ;  and  the  small  marble  tables,  of  which  there 
were  several  in  the  room,  were  covered  with  vases, 
shells,  and  various  articles  of  an  ornamental  kind ; 
whilst  the  requirements  of  comfort  were  fully  satis 
fied  by  the  arm  chairs  and  the  luxurious  sofa  that 
met  the  view.  Opening  off'  this  room  was  a  smaller 
one,  occupied  by  the  family  in  the  morning  hours, 
and  when  they  had  no  company  to  entertain.  In 
the  parlor,  a  good-sized,  well-furnished  room,  a  very 
excellent  rosewood  grand  pianoforte  was  seen ;  whilst 
another  apartment  well  merited  the  name  of  library, 
from  the  extensive  and  choice  collection  of  ancient 
and  modern  works  which  the  shelves  of  its  numer 
ous  bookcases  contained.  The  two  young  ladies  of 
the  family  had  been  educated  quite  in  a  fashionable 
style,  having  had  music-masters,  and  singing-mas 
ters,  and  French  masters,  and  English  masters,  re 
maining,  therewithal,  intensely  ignorant  of  every 
thing  that  most  concerned  them  as  rational  civilized 
beings  to  know.  The  out-door  attire  of  both  mother 
and  daughters  quite  corresponded  with  the  aspect  of 
their  home — dresses  made  in  the  last  fashionable 
style,  bonnets  with  artificial  flowers,  silk  mantillas, 

and  gay  parasols,  announced  most  plainly  how  far 
13 


194  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

aloof  poverty  stood  from  their  door ;  and  yet  the 
gilded  mirror,  the  French  timepiece,  the  grand 
pianoforte,  the  numerous  sitting-rooms,  the  accom 
plishments,  the  fashionable  dresses,  and  the  artificial 
flowers,  were  the  products  wholly  of  sixty  pounds  a 
year. 

In  England,  a  villa  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of 
any  large  town,  is  a  costly  luxury  to  procure,  and 
one  in  which  no  citizen  could  venture  to  indulge, 
unless  possessing  a  revenue  of  several  hundred 
pounds  a  year ;  but  far  different  is  the  case  in  Tus 
cany,  for  in  the  vicinity  of  Florence  an  excellent 
suit  of  apartments,  suited  to  a  good  sized  family, 
may  be  rented  at  the  rate  of  40  scudi  (SI.  17s.  Sd.)  a 
year,  and  in  a  villa  near  Florence,  the  rent  of  which 
was  no  more  than  this  sum,  I  passed  a  fortnight 
with  some  Italian  friends.  The  situation  of  the 
house  was  extremely  beautiful,  commanding,  as  it 
did,  from  the  eminence  on  which  it  rose,  an  exten 
sive  view  of  undulating  hills  and  fertile  plains, 
backed  by  lofty  mountains.  From  the  outer  hall  an 
inner  one  was  entered,  as  spacious,  high,  and  cool, 
as  might  be  desired  in  a  warm  summer's  clime. 
This  hall  gave  access  to  bed-rooms  suited  to  the 
wants  of  a  good-sized  family,  also  to  a  kitchen  and 
two  sitting-rooms;  the  windows  of  which  latter 
opened  on  a  terrace  extending  the  whole  length  of 
the  house,  and  affording  a  magnificent  prospect. 

But  though  an  Italian  family  can  manage  to  make 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  195 

a  show  on  sixty  pounds  a  year,  such  could  not  be 
accomplished  by  an  English  family  resident  in  Flor 
ence,  owing  to  the  utter  difference  of  opinion  exist 
ing  between  the  two  nations  in  regard  to  the 
requisites  of  life,  and  to  what  constitutes  domestic 
felicity.  With  English  people  of  respectability, 
good,  substantial  fare — the  juicy  joint,  well-cooked 
vegetables,  fresh  butter,  milk,  and  eggs,  are  articles 
of  prime  necessity  ;  but  poor  in  quality  and  scant  in 
quantity  is  the  food  which  suffices  for  the  require 
ments  of  Italians  belonging  even  to  the  middle 
classes  of  society. 

Strange  to  the  English  eye  is  it  to  see  the  house 
hold  life  of  a  Florentine  merchant  and  his  family, 
and  to  mark  how  comfortless  it  is,  according  to  the 
English  signification  of  the  term.  The  proprietor 
of  a  suit  of  handsome  rooms  in  both  town  and 
country,  will  make  his  morning  meal,  before  repair 
ing  to  his  place  of  business,  on  a  cup  of  coffee  with 
out  cream  or  milk,  and  a  piece  of  sour  leavened 
bread,  devoid  of  any  accompaniment.  On  his  din 
ner  table  will  be  seen,  day  after  day,  as  the  principal 
dish,  a  large  tureen  of  tasteless  soup,  consisting  of 
the  thin  watery  decoction  of  a  small  piece  of  beef, 
thickened  up  by  maccaroni  to  its  utmost  capacity. 
The  pie  or  pudding  is  reserved  for  great  occasions, 
such  as  Easter,  Christmas,  and  company  days,  and 
seldom  forms  a  portion  of  the  domestic  meal.  For 
supper,  if  milkless  coffee  and  dry  bread  come  not 


196  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

again  into  requisition,  the  day's  refreshments  are 
probably  concluded  with  a  dish  of  kidney-beans 
swimming  in  oil,  accompanied  with  a  glass  or  two 
of  thin  acid  wine.  Then,  also,  though  the  mistress 
of  the  household  appears  abroad  in  velvet,  satin, 
silk,  and  artificial  flowers,  at  home  a  nightcap  very 
possibly  constitutes  the  head-dress  for  her  morning 
wear,  accompanied  by  a  dress  which,  if  not  very  old 
and  very  faded,  is  certain  to  be  composed  of  some 
material  of  the  commonest  and  cheapest  kind. 
Cold  also  as  the  winter's  wind  often  blows  from  the 
snowy  crests  of  the  Apennines,  and  rainy  and  chilly 
as  are  generally  the  spring  months,  no  fire  (or  at 
least  but  rarely)  dispenses  its  genial  warmth  around, 
gladdening  the  eye  with  a  cheerful  blaze.  It  would 
be  difficult,  indeed,  if  not  impossible,  to  find  an 
English  family  of  respectability  contented  with  such 
a  style  of  life ;  or  one  that  would  not  willingly 
forego,  if  necessary,  every  feature  of  external  show — 
the  grand  pianoforte,  the  gilded  mirror,  the  showy 
timepiece,  the  velvet  bonnet,  and  embroidered  man 
tle — for  the  enjoyment  of  good  food,  good  daily 
dress,  and,  above  all,  the  good,  cheerful  fire  in  the 
long  cold  evenings  of  winter. 

The  Tuscans  may  well  love  their  warm  summer 
skies,  for  under  those  of  winter  their  lives  for  the 
most  part  (at  least  to  the  English  idea)  are  indeed 
dreary  and  uncomfortable.  All  along  the  base  of 
the  Apennines,  the  winter  climate,  for  nearly  per- 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  197 

haps  three  months  in  the  year,  is  very  little,  if  at  all, 
inferior  in  severity  to  the  climate  of  England  or  Ire 
land.  Rarely  is  Florence  unvisited  by  snow,  and 
never  does  a  season  elapse  without  the  frequent  re 
currence  of  frost ;  whilst  overhead,  dark,  lowering 
clouds,  borne  downwards  from  the  mountains,  ex 
clude  the  sun  from  view.  The  north  and  east  winds 
blow  piercingly,  and  even  so  late  as  the  month  of 
March,  furs  are  a  grateful  luxury.  In  a  climate 
such  as  this,  it  might  reasonably  be  supposed  that 
ample  provision  would  be  made  for  the  enjoyment 
in  the  winter  season  of  a  genial  temperature  in 
doors,  through  the  means  of  artificial  heat ;  but,  as 
if  in  defiance  of  all  the  dictates  of  common  sense, 
one  finds  in  Tuscany  the  dwellings  of  the  peasantry 
generally,  and  the  dwellings  of  the  middle  classes 
often,  constructed  in  a  manner  suited  solely  to  a 
climate  where  summer  perpetually  prevails ;  the 
windows  of  the  former  being  devoid  of  glass,  and 
the  sitting-rooms  of  the  latter  being  frequently  des 
titute  of  fire-places  or  stoves.  What  a  cheerless 
picture,  under  such  circumstances,  a  family  party  in 
Florence  presents  on  a  winter's  evening,  may  easily 
be  conceived  ;  the  light  from  the  lamp  falling  upon 
a  circle  of  shivering  mortals,  whose  cheeks  and  lips, 
with  their  pale  bluish  hue,  attest  the  severity  of  the 
cold.  Well  may  the  household  virtues  languish  in 
Italy,  and  domestic  love  grow  cold,  under  the  innu- 


198  LIFE   IN    TUSCANY. 

encc  of  that  frigid  temperature  which,  prevails  du 
ring  the  winter  months  indoors. 

Even  where  fire-places  exist  in  Italy,  the  English 
stranger   soon   discovers   that    they   are   generally 
intended  far  more  for  show  than  use ;  the  principle 
that  guided  their  construction  seeming  in  general  to 
have  "been,  that  all  the  heat  should  go  up  the  chim 
ney,  and  all  the  smoke  should  enter  the  room.     So 
well  are  the  natives  acquainted  with  this  character 
istic  of  their  fire-places,  that  they  seem  to  consider 
the  refusal  of  smoke  to  ascend  the  chimney,  merely 
a  logical  consequence  of  fire  "being  kindled  on  the 
hearth  below  ;  and  the  complaints  which  strangers 
utter  on  this  subject,  are  considered  simple  and  un 
reasonable  in  the  extreme.     "Bring  up  some  wood, 
and  make  a  fire  in  our  room,"  I  said  to  the  porter 
of  a  house  in  Naples  where  I  resided.     The  direc 
tion  was  obeyed ;  the   wood   was   piled   upon   the 
hearth,  the  match  box  was  produced,  and  in  another 
moment  the  fire  would   have  been  kindled,  had  I 
not,  suddenly  recalling  my  previous  winter's  expe 
rience   in   Tuscany,  on   this  subject,  hastily  asked, 
"But  does  the  chimney  smoke?"     At  these  words 
the  man  turned  round,  and,  with  a  look  and  in  a 
tone  expressive  of  both  wonder  and  amusement  at 
the  simplicity  of  my  question,  replied,  "  Smoke  !  to 
be  sure  it  does." 

To  impute  to  Italians,  however,  an  indifference  to 
and  entire  disuse  of  artificial  heat  in  winter,  would 


MANNERS   AND    INCIDENTS.  199 

be  untrue ;  for,  though  neither  open  fire-places  nor 
close  stoves  are  patronized  by  them,  they  possess,  in 
the  great  domestic  institution  of  the  scaldino,  a 
means  of  blunting,  in  some  degree,  the  sharpness  of 
the  cold.  Scarcely  has  the  power  of  the  hot  summer 
sun  begun  to  wane,  than  the  front  of  every  crockery 
shop  presents  to  view  numbers  of  small  brown  earth 
enware  jars,  with  high  overarching  handles.  Hold 
ing  an  article  of  this  kind  filled  almost  to  the  top 
with  charcoal  embers,  Italians  may  be  often  seen, 
both  rich  and  poor,  going  thrdugh  the  ordinary 
avocations  of  life,  on  a  cold  winter's  day,  with  much 
apparent  complacence.  The  porter  at  the  palace 
door  cheers  the  dull  tedium  of  his  hours  through 
the  means  of  his  scaldino  ;  the  crippled  beggar,  who 
entreats  the  passer-by,  for  the  love  of  the  most 
blessed  Virgin,  to  give  him  a  quattrino,  whilst  he 
extends  one  hand  to  receive  the  expected  alms, 
holds  in  the  other  a  scaldino;  the  elderly  gentle 
man,  who  walks  along  at  a  slow,  measured  pace,  has 
probably  a  scaldino  concealed  beneath  the  folds  of 
his  voluminous  mantle  ;  the  lady,  as  she  sits  talking 
to  her  guest,  caresses  lovingly  the  warm,  smooth 
brown  surface  of  her  scaldino.  The  scaldino  takes 
its  place  alike  in  drawing-room  and  kitchen,  and  is 
cherished  alike  by  mistress  and  by  servant.  One 
stumbles  over  scaldini  on  the  floor,  knocks  down 
scaldini  on  the  table  ;  scaldini  here,  and  there,  and 
everywhere,  exhibit  themselves,  from  morn  till  night 


200  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

in  winter,  to  the  stranger's  view  inside  the  dwelling 
of  a  Florentine  family. 

The  scaldini  is  not  without  some  value,  indeed,  in 
a  pleasurable  point  of  view ;  and  on  my  first  arrival 
in  Italy,  being  of  a  chilly  temperament,  I  invested 
a  sum  equivalent  to  three  half-pence  in  the  purchase 
of  a  scaldino.  Short,  however,  was  my  conformity 
with  the  national  custom,  for  I  found  that  indulgence 
to  my  hands  or  feet,  in  the  way  of  extra  warmth 
through  the  medium  of  the  scaldino,  entailed  upon 
me  severe  and  constant  headaches ;  a  very  natural 
consequence  of  the  noxious  gas  arising  from  red-hot 
charcoal  embers,  which  I  had  been  unwisely  imbib 
ing  ;  yet  though  the  fumes  from  the  smouldering 
charcoal  affected  me  so  prejudicially,  I  never  heard 
an  Italian  complain  of  the  slightest  inconvenience 
in  this  respect.  Still,  though  no  headache  may 
arise  from  the  influence  of  a  poisonous  gas  to  per 
sons  accustomed  from  childhood  to  the  use  of  the 
scaldino,  the  native  vigor  of  the  constitution  must 
certainly  be  sapped  in  some  degree  by  constantly 
inhaling  a  vitiated  atmosphere. 

The  use  of  the  scaldino,  and  the  absence  or  defi 
ciency  of  fire-places  and  stoves  in  Italian  houses,  is 
to  be  attributed,  doubtless,  to  the  costliness  of  fuel ; 
a  good  fire  being  a  luxury  beyond  the  power  of 
even  the  middle  classes  of  society  in  Italy  to  indulge 
in  habitually,  even  in  winter,  without  taxing  their 
generally  very  limited  finances  in  an  undue  degree. 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  201 

The  absence  of  a  cheap,  abundant  fuel,  like  coal  in 
England,  causes  much  discomfort  and  suffering 
amongst  all  the  poorer  classes  in  Italy  in  the  winter 
season ;  for  the  price  of  wood  is  such  as  to  render 
the  greatest  economy  of  consumption  of  this  article 
obligatory  on  the  great  bulk  of  the  middle  as  well 
as  of  the  entire  lower  class  of  the  community. 
"What  a  disagreeable  economy  that  is  to  practice,  no 
native  of  England  can  understand,  who  has  not 
made  a  personal  acquaintance  with  the  winter  cli 
mate  of  Italy  by  a  residence  there  during  the  cold 
season  of  the  year.  So  much  has  been  written 
about  the  warm  sun,  the  blue  sky,  and  the  balmy 
air  of  Italy,  that  an  idea  strongly  pervades  the 
English  mind,  that  warm  suns,  blue  skies,  and 
balmy  airs,  are  the  almost  perpetual  inheritance  of 
that  fortunate  country.  But  such  an  idea  experi 
ence  proves  should  be  classed  amongst  the  popular 
delusions  enumerated  by  Sir  Thomas  Brown ;  for  in 
many  an  Italian  November  day  the  wind  blows  icy 
cold  ;  in  many  a  December  day  the  sun  refuses  to 
shine ;  and  in  many  a  January  and  February  day 
the  skies  are  covered  with  leaden  clouds,  from  which 
the  rain  pours  mercilessly  down.  Oh,  poets  and 
novel  writers  !  great  is  the  responsibility  resting  on 
your  heads,  for  having  fostered  the  huge  illusion 
which  so  generally  prevails  with  regard  to  the  bless 
edness  of  an  Italian  winter  clime.  "With  the  inces 
sant  sound  of  rain-drops  in  my  ear,  and  the  dull 


202  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

light  from  a  leaden  sky  entering  the  windows  of  my 
room,  my  feet  and  fingers  well  nigh  numb  with  cold, 
I  have  often  longed  in  Italy  for  the  glorious  warmth 
of  a  fire  of  English  coal ;  before  which  the  beams  of 
even  the  brightest  winter  Italian  sun  fade  into  mere 
nothingness. 

Geology  and  morality  may  seem,  at  first  sight, 
subjects  far  apart ;  but  it  is  not  difficult  to  trace  an 
intimate  connection  between  the  mines  of  coal  and 
the  domestic  virtues  of  England  :  for  instance,  if 
Mr.  Smith,  that  very  exemplary  member  of  the 
community,  who  is  to  be  found  evening  after  even 
ing  in  his  easy  chair  at  his  own  fireside,  chatting 
with  his  wife  and  playing  with  his  children — if  this 
same  Mr.  Smith,  the  pattern  husband,  the  model 
father,  instead  of  having  a  good  coal  fire  to  sit  be 
side,  were  to  be  condemned  to  pass  the  long  winter 
evenings  inhaling  carbonic  acid  gas  from  a  scaldino, 
in  a  cold,  dark,  fireless  room,  it  is  much  to  be  feared 
that  Mrs.  Smith  would  have  often  to  mourn  an  ab 
sent  spouse,  and  that  few  and  far  between  would  be 
the  rides  that  Master  Tom  would  get  upon  the  pa 
rental  foot  or  knee.  Keeping  this  consideration, 
therefore,  as  we  should  do,  in  view,  it  must  be  al 
lowed  that  when  the  temperature  indoors  ranges  at 
forty  degrees  or  less,  it  is  a  difficult  thing  for  Signer 
Bacilesi  to  sit  out  the  long  winter  evenings  in  his 
cold,  gloomy  home,  acting  the  Smithian  part,  when 
cafe's  and  theatres  abroad  afford  him,  at  a  trifling 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  203 

cost,  the  combined  enjoyments  of  society,  amuse 
ment,  warmth  and  light.  Who,  then,  duly  reflect 
ing  on  this  subject,  can  fail  to  recognize  the  import 
ant  part  which  the  geological  conformation  of 
Cumberland  and  Lancashire  plays  in  the  develop 
ment  of  the  domestic  virtues  in  England  ? 

Throughout  Tuscany,  and,  indeed,  I  may  say, 
throughout  Italy,  England  and  the  English  are  very 
much  respected  by  the  great  mass  of  the  population. 
The  power  of  England  presents  itself  to  the  popular 
mind  in  Tuscany  as  a  power  of  the  most  unlimited 
magnitude.  The  release  of  Rosa  Madiai  and  her 
husband  from  prison  resulted  entirely,  I  was  told, 
from  the  interposition  of  England  in  their  favor, 
through  the  means  of  a  threat  uttered  by  the  Eng 
lish  Government  on  the  subject.  My  informant 
assured  me,  gravely,  that  the  English  minister  wrote 
to  the  Grand  Duke,  "  If  in  six  weeks'  time  Rosa 
and  her  husband  are  not  free,  I  will  send  an  army 
to  release  them,  and  knock  down  Florence  about 
your  ears  !"  Of  course,  such  a  terrific  menace  could 
not  fail  in  producing  an  immediate  effect. 

According  to  the  same  accurate  and  trustworthy 
authority,  an  Englishman  or  Englishwoman  never 
breaks  a  promise,  and  never  defrauds.  During  my 
stay  in  Tuscany,  I  found  the  most  unlimited  confi 
dence  placed  in  my  honesty,  by  persons  almost 
strangers  to  me,  with  whom  I  had  money  transac 
tions  of  any  kind.  In  a  case  that  came  under  my 


204  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

own  knowledge,  of  an  English  lady  who  had  de 
frauded  a  poor  Florentine  tradeswoman  of  a  sum 
which  to  the  latter  was  one  of  a  serious  amount,  I 
had  an  opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted  with 
the  deep-seated  reliance  on  English  honesty  that 
prevailed.  "  How  could  you  act  so  very  foolishly," 
I  said,  "  as  to  go  on  from  month  to  month,  and  even 
from  year  to  year,  not  only  giving  credit,  but  lend 
ing  money,  when  it  was  asked  ?"  "  Yes,  I  feel  now 
that  I  acted  foolishly,"  was  the  reply ;  "  but  the  lady 
being  English,  I  never  doubted  for  a  moment  she 
would  repay  me  every  farthing  that  she  owed,  ac 
cording  to  her  wrord."  Precisely  to  the  same  pur 
port  was  the  remark  made  to  me  by  the  proprietor 
of  one  of  the  principal  hotels  in  Florence,  to  whom 
I  expressed  my  surprise  that  he  should  have  per 
mitted  a  swindler,  a  soi-distant  Englishman,  to 
defraud  him  out  of  the  expenses  of  board  and  lodg 
ing  for  a  lengthened  time.  "The  gentleman  always 
said  he  would  pay  me  when  he  got  a  remittance 
from  his  London  banker,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  and  I, 
thinking  him  to  be  an  Englishman,  for  he  bore  the 
name  of  one,  believed  implicitly  what  he  said." 
"  Still,"  I  rejoined,  "  when  you  found  out  through 
the  telegraph  that  he  had  no  money  at  the  bank,  as 
he  declared,  I  wonder  you  continued  to  give  credit 
to  his  promises  of  eventual  payment."  "  Well," 
was  the  reply,  "  if  I  had  not  believed  him  to  be  an 
Englishman,  I  would  have  turned  him  out  of  doors 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  205 

at  once  ;  but  as  I  never  knew  an  English  gentleman 
to  cheat  or  to  break  his  word,  I  relied  confidently 
on  having  my  dues  at  last." 

In  regard  to  Italian  female  servants,  I  invariably 
found  that  the  great  desire  of  their  hearts  was  to 
get  into  the  service  of  an  English  lady  or  an  Eng 
lish  family,  not  so  much  from  the  increase  of  wages 
they  might  obtain  beyond  the  Italian  standard,  as 
from  the  kinder  treatment  they  expected  to  receive, 
and  the  easier  life  they  hoped  to  lead,  than  that 
which  fell  to  their  lot  in  an  Italian  family.  "  Pray, 
take  me  as  your  maid,"  was  an  entreaty  that  I  con 
stantly  heard,  together  with  the  assurance  that  I 
might  fix  the  wages  at  any  sum  I  chose.  English 
ladies,  indeed,  are  looked  up  to  and  spoken  of, 
amongst  Italians  of  the  low^er  classes,  in  a  manner 
that  often  amused  me  considerably  ;  by  the  women, 
especially,  whose  depressed  social  condition  leads 
almost  universally  to  the  most  extreme  cowardliness 
of  mind. 

Constantly,  when  performing  the  most  simple  ac 
tions  in  the  world,  I  have  found  my  achievements 
regarded  as  belonging  to  the  heroic  class ;  for  in 
stance,  when  bathing,  I  advanced  into  the  sea  until 
the  water  reached  up  to  my  waist  —  when  during 
a  thunder  storm,  I  stood  near  the  window  to  watch 
the  lightning  flashes — when  I  crossed  a  narrow  street 
between,  perhaps,  two  very  slowly  moving  lines  of 
carriages — I  was  looked  upon  as  having  done  some- 


206  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

thing  truly  wonderful.  Many  were  the  tales  I  heard 
of  English  ladies'  deeds  of  daring;  how  this  one 
had  undertaken  a  journey  by  herself — how  that  one 
had  not  scrupled  to  ride  or  walk  for  several  miles 
alone — and  how  another,  who  had  lost  her  way  one 
evening  in  a  chestnut  wood,  instead  of  going  well 
nigh  crazy  with  fright,  (as  an  Italian  girl  under  sim 
ilar  circumstances  would  be  certain  to  do,)  treated 
the  affair  as  a  good  joke,  by  bursting  out  into  a 
merry  laugh  on  being  wakened  up  the  ensuing  morn 
ing  by  some  members  of  her  family,  who,  going  in 
search,  had  found  her  sleeping  quietly  beneath  a 
tree.  The  extreme  pusillanimity  of  Italian  women 
gives,  in  their  opinion,  quite  a  marvelous  character 
to  the  simplest  deeds ;  and  this  failing — unchecked 
in  childhood — grows  sometimes  to  an  excess  that 
must  often  detract  much  from  the  happiness  of  their 
lives. 

" Ho  paura"  (I  am  afraid,)  is  the  commonest  ex 
pression  one  hears  in  Italy  from  feminine  lips.  I 
was  acquainted  with  a  young  girl  of  seventeen,  who 
stayed  in  bed  three  days  to  recover  from  the  effects 
of  some  silly  hobgoblin  fears ;  and  a  middle-aged 
servant  of  mine  remained  in  a  dead  swoon  for  up 
wards  of  an  hour,  in  consequence  of  seeing  a  large 
eel  unexpectedly:  it  is,  indeed,  rare  to  find  amongst 
rich  or  poor,  an  Italian  woman  who  will  not  scream, 
or  jump,  or  start,  on  the  slightest  provocation  imag 
inable. 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  207 

Although  the  English  are  generally  liked  and  re 
spected  throughout  Tuscany,  they  are  very  far  from 
being  favorites  with  the  upper  classes  of  that  land. 
Whilst  to  the  Tuscan  peasant,  to  the  tradesman,  or 
to  the  merchant,  the  term  Incjlcse  stands  as  the  im- 
personification  of  honor,  probity,  courage,  wealth, 
and  generosity,  to  the  Tuscan  gentleman  or  noble 
that  same  word  is  the  synonym  for  every  phase  of 
disagreeableness :  a  result  attributable  in  a  great 
degree  to  the  pride  and  shyness  which  characterize, 
in  general,  English  manners;  for  to  the  polished 
Italian,  brought  up  to  respect  the  established  forms 
of  politeness  beyond  most  other  things,  and  gifted 
with  a  volubility  of  speech  that  knows  no  check, 
English  silence  and  reserve  very  naturally  wear  the 
aspect  of  studied  rudeness  or  want  of  courtesy. 

To  the  estrangement  resulting  from  this  source  is 
added  that  which  proceeds  from  uncongeuiality  of 
tastes  and  characters.  Excluded  from  the  real  bus 
iness  of  life,  without  public  duties  of  any  kind  to 
engage  his  mind,  and  with  no  profitable  avocations 
to  occupy  his  time,  the  Tuscan  nobleman,  or  gentle 
man  of  independent  fortune,  seeks  refuge  from  the 
approaches  of  ennui  by  a  headlong  plunge  into  the 
whirling  gulf  of  pleasure  and  dissipation.  A  career 
of  such  a  kind,  whose  only  aim  is  self-indulgence, 
whilst  it  destroys  the  sense  of  right,  infallibly  im 
parts  a  tone  of  frivolity  to  the  character.  The  Eng 
lish  nobleman  or  gentleman,  brought  up  under 


208  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

influences  widely  different,  with  many  opportuni-. 
ties  of  useful  occupation,  and  a  consciousness  of 
public  duties  as  landholder  or  magistrate,  and  with 
the  means  of  honorably  satisfying  his  love  of  excite 
ment  in  the  wide  field  of  political  life  that  is  thrown 
open  to  his  ambition,  acquires  a  certain  seriousness 
of  thought  and  solidity  of  character,  which  but  ill 
harmonize  with  the  tone  of  Italian  society ;  where 
the  advent  of  a  new  prima  donna  holds  the  same 
place  in  interest  as  the  advent  of  a  new  Prime  Min 
ister  does  in  England,  and  where  the  graces  of  a 
pirouette  and  the  merits  of  a  roulade  are  discussed 
with  the  same  amount  of  earnestness  and  animation 
that  might  be  employed  in  English  society  in  criti 
cising  the  acts  and  words  of  English  public  charac 
ters  and  statesmen. 

Another  cause  may  also  be  discovered  for  that 
dislike  which  is  entertained  by  the  upper  classes  of 
Tuscany  towards  the  English  generally.  With  an 
innate  fondness  for  display,  a  national  taste  that 
manifests  itself  throughout  every  rank  of  society  in 
Italy,  the  Tuscan  nobleman  or  gentleman,  having 
a  fortune  of  moderate  amount  or  a  scanty  revenue, 
finds  himself  eclipsed  in  his  own  land,  in  external 
pomp  and  show,  by  that  wealthy  Anglo-Saxon  race 
whom  a  love  of  change,  of  art,  of  sunshine,  or  other 
motives  have  impelled  towards  the  shores  of  Italy. 
The  princepe  or  marchese,  whose  ancestors  played  a 
distinguished  part  in  Floretine  history,  and  whose 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  209 

fortress-palaces  adorn  the  Tuscan  capital,  must  be 
galled  and  mortified  by  the  consideration  that,  in 
equipages,  in  style  of  living,  in  splendor  of  enter 
tainments,  they  cannot  compete  with  Mr.  Brown  or 
Mr.  Smith,  whose  gentility  dates  not,  perhaps,  be 
yond  the  quarter  or  half-quarter  of  a  century.  But 
still  more  powerful  than  any  of  the  causes  of  es 
trangement  enumerated  is  that  which  has  its  growth 
in  the  different  codes  of  morals  that  bear  sway  re 
spectively  in  Italian  and  English  society.  "  The 
English  talk  scandal  about  us,"  say  the  Italians : 
and,  probably,  this  charge  is  not  without  founda 
tion  ;  for  no  pure-minded  Englishwoman,  or  right- 
thinking  Englishman,  can  frequent  Italian  society 
without  finding  much  to  condemn. 

To  one  custom,  prevalent  not  only  in  Tuscany  but 
throughout  Italy,  no  length  of  residence  abroad 
can  ever  reconcile  the  English  stranger.  In  the 
British  isles  the  practice  of  bargaining  is  looked 
upon  as  a  very  plebeian  transaction,  and  in  the  low 
est  order  of  shops  alone,  and  amongst  the  lower 
classes  of  the  people  chiefly,  is  the  practice  of  bar 
gaining  general.  "With  us,  no  shopkeeper,  who 
aimed  at  securing  the  custom  of  respectable  persons, 
would  offer  to  abate  one  farthing  in  the  prices  first 
demanded  for  his  goods;  and  even  the  most  thrifty 
lady  would  scarcely  venture  to  compromise  her  gen 
tility  so  far  as  to  attempt  to  higgle  over  the  pur 
chase  of  a  yard  of  calico  or  a  pound  of  tea.  Far 
14 


210  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

different  in  this  respect  is  the  custom  in  Italy ;  for 
the  Italian  shopkeeper,  whether  he  lives  in  a  fashion 
able  street  or  in  a  hack  lane,  whether  he  vends 
satins  or  maccaroni,  almost  invariably  demands  for 
his  commodities  a  higher  price  than  he  will  take, 
or  indeed  calculates  to  receive ;  since  his  customers, 
whether  rich  or  poor,  on  their  part  quite  as  univers 
ally  stipulate  for  an  abatement  in  the  cost  of  the 
article  they  wish  to  buy.  The  difficulty  to  English 
strangers  of  shopping,  under  such  circumstances, 
may  easily  be  conceived ;  unfamiliar  with  the  art  of 
bargaining  as  they  usually  are,  as  well  as  being  ig 
norant  of  the  just  value  of  the  article  they  may 
desire  to  purchase.  Of  course,  however,  for  those 
fortunate  individuals  on  whom  economical  consid 
erations  need  exercise  no  restraint,  shopping  in  Italy 
is  an  occupation  that  involves  as  little  trouble  as 
does  shopping  in  England ;  but  to  those  natives  of 
the  British  isles  who  do  not  find  it  convenient  to 
pay  a  third,  or  perhaps  one-half,  more  than  the  fail- 
value  of  every  article,  Italian  shopping  is  a  griev 
ance,  and  a  burdensome  affliction.  Disagreeable  to 
me,  however,  as  was  always  the  avocation,  I  often 
derived  considerable  amusement  in  listening  to  such 
negotiations,  and  witnessing  the  manner  in  which 
they  were  carried  on  between  the  vendor  and  the 
purchaser. 

A  lady  asks  the  price  of  a  ribbon  she  admires  — 
"  Three  paoli  the  braccio,"  is  the  reply. 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  211 

"  Three  paoli ! "  rejoins  the  lady  in  a  contemptuous 
tone,  giving  the  ribbon  a  slight  toss  aside ;  "  how 
dear !  how  enormously  dear ! " 

"  Bear !  no,  not  at  all,"  returns  the  shopkeeper, 
blandly;  "rather  it  is  cheap,  remarkably  cheap, 
if  you  consider  the  color  and  quality  of  the  goods." 

The  lady  takes  up  the  ribbon  again,  looks  at  it, 
and  after  a  moment's  consideration  says  she  will 
give  two  paoli  the  braccio  for  it. 

The  man  shakes  his  head,  with  something  of  an 
indignant  air.  Two  paoli  the  braccio  for  such  a 
ribbon  !  quite  impossible  to  give  it  for  such  a  price 
as  that ;  but  to  accommodate  the  signora  as  far  as 
practicable,  he  will  say  twenty  crazie*  the  braccio 
for  it. 

"  Still  much  too  dear,"  is  the  rejoinder;  " the  rib 
bon  is  not  really  worth  more  than  twelve  crazie ; 
but  as  the  color  suits  me,  I  will  give  seventeen  crazie 
a  braccio  for  it." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  but  I  cannot  sell  it  at  that 
price." 

A  short  silence  follows ;  the  lady  looks  at  the  rib 
bon  with  an  approving  eye,  the  shopman  waits  for 
some  new  proposal;  but  none  being  forthcoming, 
he  suggests,  at  length,  an  accommodation  of  the 
difference ;  for  eighteen  crazie  the  braccio  the  rib 
bon  shall  be  hers. 

*  There  are  eight  crazie  in  a  paoli. 


212  LIFE  IN   TUSCANY. 

The  proposition  being  acceded  to,  the  negotia 
tion  comes  happily  to  an  end. 

Not  always,  however,  does  the  transaction  termi 
nate  so  speedily.  On  two  or  three  successive  days 
I  have  known  negotiations  renewed,  before  a  satis 
factory  settlement  of  the  price  could  be  attained. 
On  one  of  these  occasions,  a  straw  bonnet,  of  the 
value  of  about  seven  shillings  in  English  money,  was 
the  article  under  discussion.  On  the  third  day,  the 
negotiations  had  so  far  advanced  to  a  favorable 
termination,  that  a  difference  of  about  two  pence 
three  farthings  alone  prevented  the  sale  from  taking 
place ;  and  on  the  fourth  day,  I  have  no  doubt  the 
difference  was  finally  adjusted,  and  the  sale  effected 
by  the  sacrifice  of  a  few  farthings  on  either  side. 

The  process  of  shopping,  under  the  Italian  system, 
would  be  much  simplified  to  the  stranger,  if  any 
certain  rule  could  be  given  as  to  the  proportion  that 
the  real  value  of  an  article  bears  to  its  nominal  one. 
But  though,  unhappily,  Italian  shopkeepers  all  agree 
to  ask  far  more  for  their  goods  than  they  are  worth, 
they  by  no  means  show  the  same  accord  in  adopting 
one  uniform  rate  of  overcharge.  Each  shop  has  its 
different  sliding  scale :  as  the  stranger  will  find  from 
painful  experience ;  whilst  in  one,  an  article  may  be 
procured  for  half  the  price  first  asked,  in  another 
an  abatement  of  only  a  third  or  a  fourth  part  of  the 
original  price  will  be  made.  Amidst  the  intricacies 
and  perplexities  of  such  a  system,  the  stranger  stands 


MANNERS   AND  INCIDENTS.  213 

but  little  chance  of  obtaining  any  article  at  a  price 
at  all  approximating  to  the  one  it  ought  in  equity 
to  bear. 

"Quanta  vuol  darmi  ?"  ("  How  much  will  you  give 
me  ? ")  is  a  phrase  much  in  use  amongst  tradesmen, 
on  an  objection  being  made  to  the  price  demanded 
for  their  wares ;  and  when  I  have  left  a  shop,  rather 
than  conduct  negotiations  for  sale  on  the  established 
higgling  principle,  my  proceeding  was  looked  upon, 
I  could  easily  see,  as  something  quite  eccentric  and 
absurd :  so  firmly  is  it  established  in  the  Italian 
mind  that  every  one  who  wants  to  buy,  and  every 
one  who  desires  to  sell,  should  each  endeavor  stren 
uously,  on  their  respective  parts,  the  one  to  make 
the  most,  the  other  to  pay  the  least  he  can,  whether 
the  matter  involve  the  value  of  a  few  pence  or  many 
pounds. 

Yet,  universally  as  the  Hebrew  principle  of  trade 
prevails  throughout  Italy,  and  biassed  as  minds  be 
come  in  favor  of  customs  sanctioned  by  prescription, 
I  have  met  with  Italian  tradesmen  sufficiently  ra 
tional  and  enlightened  to  condemn  the  principle  of 
overcharging  as  dishonest  and  injurious. 

"  But  what  can  I  do  ?  "  said  a  Florentine  mercer 
to  me  one  day,  in  reference  to  some  observations  of 
mine ;  "  though  I  admire  the  English  system  of 
dealing  as  being  an  essentially  good  and  honest  one, 
the  practice  of  it  on  my  part  would  certainly  banish 
from  my  shop  every  Italian  customer  I  have ;  for  no 


214  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

Italian  lady  would  purchase  from  me  the  most  tri 
fling  article,  unless  I  made  some  abatement  in  the 
price  declared;  however  reasonable  and  fair  that 
price  might  be.  Under  such  circumstances,  there 
fore,  not  only  to  make  any  profit,  but  even  to  save 
myself  from  actual  loss,  I  must  ask  in  the  first  in 
stance  a  high  price  for  my  goods,  in  order  to  allow 
for  the  abatement  that  every  customer  will  inevit 
ably  demand.  Fixed  prices  are  best,  I  freely  ad 
mit,  and  I  wish  heartily  that  they  were  the  estab 
lished  rule  in  this  land ;  but  for  a  solitary  individual 
like  myself  to  oppose  a  universal  custom,  and  to  set 
up  a  system  of  English  dealing  here,  would  soon 
result  in  ruin  and  bankruptcy." 

To  the  reasonableness  of  such  observations  I  could 
not  but  assent ;  recalling  the  keenness  with  which 
the  process  of  bargaining  on  the  part  of  intending 
purchasers  had  often,  under  my  own  eye,  been  car 
ried  on.  Not  only  in  this,  but  in  many  other  re 
spects,  Italy  affords  a  striking  example  of  the  way 
in  which  evils  act  and  re-act  upon  each  other,  so  as 
almost  hopelessly  to  perpetuate  their  rule. 

The  universality  of  beggary  in  Italy  detracts  much 
from  the  pleasure  of  a  stranger's  residence  in  that 
land ;  and  though  the  Neapolitan  dominions,  per 
haps,  possess  an  unhappy  pre-eminence  in  that  par 
ticular,  the  curse  of  mendicancy  prevails  to  a  most 
lamentable  extent  in  Tuscany.  From  the  rich  plains 
through  which  the  Arno  winds,  there  issue  a  ragged, 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  215 

squalid  tribe,  who  sustain  their  miserable  lives  on 
charity.  In  Pisa,  the  beggars  would  almost  seem  to 
constitute  the  most  numerous  class  of  the  popula 
tion;  and,  in  the  other  towns  of  Tuscany,  mendi 
cancy  exhibits  itself  on  a  scale  of  scarcely  less  mag 
nitude.  Under  the  bright  blue  summer  sky,  and  in 
a  land  where  plenty  apparently  reigns,  nowhere 
could  I  escape  from  sights  and  sounds  of  misery ; 
everywhere  was  heard  the  monotonous  cry,  lisped 
by  the  young,  mumbled  by  the  old,  and  chorused 
forth  by  ragged  wretches  of  both  sexes  and  of  every 
age — "Datemi  qualche  cosa !  ho  fam.e,  ho  tanto  fame ! 
Datemi  una  piccola  moneta,  per  Vamore  delta  sanctissi- 
ma  Vergine!"  * 

Extensively,  however,  as  poverty  does  really  pre 
vail  in  Tuscany,  and  numerous  as  are  the  fit  objects 
of  charity  that  one  sees,  the  tribe  of  beggars  is  often 
largely  swelled  by  additions  from  a  class  of  individ 
uals  who  are  mendicants  more  from  choice  than 
necessity;  having  other  means  of  sustaining  life 
than  those  derived  from  alms.  This  class  of  unpro 
fessional  beggars  abounds  especially  in  country  dis 
tricts  ;  and  so  deficient,  „  for  the  most  part,  are  the 
lower  orders  of  the  peasantry  in  a  consciousness  of 
anything  inherently  degrading  in  the  mendicant's 
trade,  that  petitions  for  aid  will  come  from  persons 
evincing  in  their  looks  and  dress  an  air  of  respecta- 

*  "  Give  me  something!  I  am  hungry  ;  I  am  so  very  hungry !  Give 
me  a  trifle,  for  the  love  of  the  Blessed  Virgin ! " 


216  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

bility.  Almost  before  the  power  of  speech  is  at 
tained,  the  bright-eyed,  round-cheeked  child  of  the 
contadino  will  stretch  out  its  little  hand  to  the  pass 
ing  stranger  for  some  trifling  coin;  and  the  peasant 
woman  whose  husband  cultivates  a  small  plot  of 
land,  will  more  than  hint  how  extremely  acceptable 
would  be  the  donation  of  a  cast-off  petticoat  or 
gown.  Very  probably,  not  a  little  of  the  favor  with 
which  the  beggar's  trade  is  regarded  in  Tuscany 
originates  in  the  circumstance,  that  mendicancy  and 
religion  are  exhibited  constantly  to  the  people's 
view  in  intimate  union.  The  brown-robed  friar, 
with  wallet  on  his  back,  who  begs  from  door  to 
door — here,  for  a  piece  of  bread,  there,  for  a  contri 
bution  of  chestnuts  or  of  meal ;  the  Brother  of  Mer 
cy,  who  goes  his  rounds  with  begging-box  in  hand ; 
the  friar,  who  takes  his  stand  in  the  public  streets, 
to  solicit  alms  for  the  relief  of  suffering  souls  in  pur 
gatory  :  acting  as  they  all  do  under  the  sanction  of 
the  Church,  not  unnaturally  tend  to  invest  with  a 
kind  of  dignity  the  mendicant's  trade  in  the  public 
estimation.  Be  this,  ho\vever,  the  cause  or  not,  one 
thing  is  certain,  that  amongst  the  lower  classes  of 
Tuscany  no  feeling  of  pride,  independence  and  self- 
respect  will  restrain  the  utterance  of  petitions  for 
aid,  even  on  the  part  of  many  whose  circumstances 
are  such  as  to  place  them  far  above  the  ordinary 
mendicant  class. 

By  universal  assent,  Tuscany,  with  one  single  ex- 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  217 

ception,  ranks  high  above  all  the  other  Italian  States 
in  regard  to  elegance  of  expression  and  purity  of 
pronunciatian  of  the  Italian  tongue.  Home  alone, 
the  exception  referred  to,  can  contest  the  palm  of 
superiority  with  Tuscany  in  this  particular;  and 
though,  according  to  the  well-known  saying  "?a 
lingua  Toscana  in  bocca  Romana"  he  the  best,  the 
inhabitants  of  Tuscany,  and  more  especially  the  citi 
zens  of  Sienna,  pique  themselves  on  the  possession 
of  the  exclusive  power  of  speaking  the  Italian  lan 
guage  with  perfect  purity.  On  such  a  point,  a 
foreigner  can  necessarily  be  no  judge,  for  many  a 
minute  shade  of  difference  in  the  pronunciation  of 
an  unfamiliar  word  escapes  the  untutored  ear ;  but 
one  thing  is  certain,  that  the  merest  novice  in  the 
Italian  language  will  soon  discover  that,  as  a  gene 
ral  rule,  the  Florentines,  throughout  the  middle  and 
lower  classes  of  the  population,  take  certain  liberties 
with  their  language  that  neither  good  taste  nor  dic 
tionary  authority  can  in  the  least  degree  justify. 
For  instance,  they  very  frequently  convert  the  let 
ter  "c,"  when  it  begins  a  word,  into  an  "h"  in 
sound,  so  as  to  make  hasa  out  of  casa  (house),  havallo 
out  of  cavallo  (horse),  and  so  on  through  a  great 
number  of  words  of  the  same  kind.  With  this  par 
ticular  fault,  which  is  one  pretty  much  confined  to 
Florence  and  its  immediate  vicinity,  the  Tuscan 
pronunciation  of  Italian  was  pleasing  to  my  ear 
above  that  of  any  other  part  of  Italy,  the  Roman 


218  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

not  excepted.  It  is  a  truly  pleasant  thing  to  hear 
Italian  spoken  in  a  voice  possessing  the  charms  of 
softness  and  sweetness  —  qualities,  however,  which, 
strange  to  say  in  a  land  of  vocalists,  are  seldom 
found  in  the  speaking  voices  of  Italian  men,  and 
still  far  more  rarely  in  those  of  Italian  women.  I 
have  often  been  pained  to  an  indescribable  degree, 
in  Italian  society,  by  the  shrill,  sharp  voices  of  the 
ladies  whom  I  heard  around  me.  One  young  lady 
in  particular,  with  whom  circumstances  brought  me 
unfortunately  into  frequent  contact,  used,  by  every 
word  she  uttered,  to  cause  me  the  same  suffering  as 
I  have  endured  from  the  grinding  of  a  saw,  the 
scratch  of  a  slate  pencil,  or  the  scream  of  a  steam 
whistle ;  and  I  have  often  felt  tempted  to  beg  that 
she  would  chant  or  operatize  her  sentences;  for, 
curious  to  say,  like  many  other  Italian  ladies  I  knew 
who  possessed  speaking  voices  of  a  similar  descrip 
tion,  she  sang  with  taste,  power  and  sweetness. 

In  the  British  Isles,  music  is  a  passion  with  the 
few,  an  amusement,  or  object  of  mere  liking,  to  the 
many ;  but  in  Italy,  music  seems  to  speak  to  the 
heart  and  soul  of  every  inhabitant  of  that  country. 
In  Florence,  rich  and  poor  are  alike  adorers  of  the 
opera.  The  London  artizan,  intent  on  pleasure, 
hurries  off  to  a  third-rate  theatre,  to  luxuriate  in 
the  comicalities  of  some  broad  farce,  or  to  seek  ex 
citement  in  the  exhibition  of  melodramatic  horrors : 
blue  lights,  green  lights,  and  red  lights,  are  his  de- 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  219 

light ;  he  loves  to  see  fairies  flying  in  the  air  ;  drag 
ons  with  fiery  tails,  and  magicians  with  magnificent 
turbans  and  splendid  beards.  Beyond  a  popular 
song  or  two,  the  tune  of  which  the  itinerant  barrel 
organ  has  made  familiar  to  his  ear,  he  knows  little 
of  music ;  his  own  attainments  in  that  art  being 
probably  limited  to  humming  or  whistling  "  God 
save  the  Queen/'  or  some  negro  melody. 

The  Florentine  artizan,  though  not  inferior  in 
natural  intelligence,  yet  certainly  inferior  in  point 
of  education,  seeks  for  enjoyment  in  pleasures  of  a 
more  elevated  kind.  Passing  by  with  indifference 
the  gigantic  placards  which  announce  the  perform 
ance  of  some  wonderful  horse,  or  the  hundredth 
representation,  amidst  universal  applause,  of  some 
laughter-exciting  play,  he  hies  with  his  small  sav 
ings  to  the  opera-house,  to  listen  to  the  prima  don 
na's  harmonious  strains.  "Not  a  note  escapes  his  ear; 
he^listens  with  every  faculty ;  prepared  to  applaud 
or  to  condemn  each  vocalist,  where  praise  or  blame 
is  due.  He  can  trace  the  silver  thread  of  harmony 
through  passages  where  the  clue  seems  lost  to  a  less 
gifted  and  cultivated  ear,  and  each  note  he  hears 
makes  a  distinct  impression  on  his  memory.  He 
feels  no  fatigue,  he  knows  no  tedium,  though  he 
listens  to  the  same  opera,  sung  by  the  same  vocalists, 
for  the  twentieth  time ;  and  the  strains  thus  heard 
he  carries  back  in  mind  with  him  to  cheer  the  wea 
riness  of  his  labor  hours.  From  the  carpenter's  shop 


220  LIFE    IN   TUSCANY. 

I  have  heard  the  finest  airs  of  the  "  Sonnambula" 
rise  up  melodiously  in  the  air;  the  work-girl,  with 
a  power  and  sweetness  of  voice  which  I  could  not 
but  envy,  has  sung  me  the  best  pieces  from  the 
"  Traviata  "  in  a  truly  admirable  style  ;  and  I  knew 
a  maid-servant  who  could  go  unerringly  through  at 
least  twenty  operas,  from  beginning  to  end.  "Mu 
sic  !  how  I  adore  music ! "  is  the  universal  cry  in 
Italy,  amongst  old  and  young,  rich  and  poor.  Ac 
cording  to  the  principle  of  the  Scandinavian  my 
thology,  which  made  the  happiness  of  heaven  for 
the  righteous  consist  in  an  endless  repetition  of  the 
pleasures  they  had  most  enjoyed  on  earth  —  even 
as  the  followers  of  Odin  were  to  drink  mead  out 
of  the  over-flowing  goblets,  and  to  chop  off  each 
other's  heads,  and  limbs,  and  arms  to  the  end  of 
time — so  .a  paradise  constructed  for  Italians  on  the 
same  plan  would  necessitate  an  inexhaustible  supply 
of  first-rate  operas  and  artistes  with  vocal  powers 
equally  divine. 

At  Easter  time,  either  a  little  before  or  after  that 
festival,  the  streets  of  Florence  exhibit  a  sight  which 
cannot  fail  in  some  degree  to  excite  the  stranger's 
curiosity  and  surprise.  Dressed  in  robes  of  white, 
composed  of  some  light  material,  such  as  muslin  or 
lace,  over-skirts  of  satin  or  silk,  with  large  white 
veils  enveloping  their  heads,  young  girls  may  be 
seen  proceeding  along  the  public  streets,  either  singly 
or  in  groups,  accompanied  by  a  lady  of  matronly 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  221 

aspect.  The  attire,  so  suggestive  of  matrimonial 
proceedings,  instantly  led  me  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  young  girls  whom  I  saw  were  either  going  to, 
or  returning  from,  the  wedding  of  a  friend  or  rela 
tion  ;  but,  on  inquiry,  I  found  that  the  dress  which 
had  excited  my  interest  and  curiosity  was  significant, 
not  of  matrimony,  but  of  religion  ;  it  being  adopted 
by  such  young  girls  as,  for  the  first  time  in  their 
lives,  were  admitted  to  receive  the  Communion. 

English  philanthropy  takes  under  its  especial  pro 
tection  the  blind,  the  deaf,  the  dumb,  the  maimed, 
and  the  diseased  in  mind  and  body ;  for  these  sub- 
srciptions  are  raised,  donations  given,  and  legacies 
bequeathed  by  charitable  persons.  But  Italian,  and 
particularly  Tuscan  philanthropy,  would  seem,  for 
the  most  part,  to  take  a  different  direction ;  for, 
judging  from  the  amount  of  funds  set  apart  in  Flor 
ence  for  various  charitable  purposes,  the  want  of 
sight,  of  speech,  the  failure  of  health,  the  loss  of 
limbs,  of  hearing,  and  of  reason,  are  each  accounted 
a  calamity  of  less  weight  than  that  which  afflicts 
the  maiden  destined  to  see  her  youth  go  by,  and 
grey  hairs  arrive,  unprovided  with  a  husband.  Eng 
lish  benevolence  contemplates  with  indifference  the 
woes  of  spinsterism,  but  Italian  benevolence  rushes 
to  its  aid  with  a  zeal  truly  commendable  :  enhancing 
the  effect  of  feminine  graces,  and  increasing  their 
power  to  subdue  the  manly  heart,  by  the  substantial 
charms  of  money.  In  Tuscany,  as  well  as  through- 


222  LIFE   IX   TUSCANY. 

out  all  Italy,  the  bestowal  of  marriage  portions  has 
ever  been  one  of  the  most  favorite  charities;  and  in 
Florence  alone  the  sums  thus  distributed  annually 
amount  to  between  three  and  four  thousand  pounds. 
The  Society  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  the  patron  saint 
of  Florence,  was  founded  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of 
endowing  girls  in  humble  circumstances  with  mar 
riage  portions ;  and  to  the  same  purpose  is  annually 
applied  a  certain  portion  of  the  funds  of  the  broth 
erhood  of  the  Misericordia.  Another  charitable 
society  takes  upon  itself  to  provide  every  fatherless 
Florentine  girl  with  a  matrimonial  dowry  of  fifty 
scudi  (about  eleven  pounds  English  money).  To 
entitle  themselves,  however,  to  receive  such  dona 
tions,  girls  must  pay  great  attention  to  their  relig 
ious  duties :  attend  mass  frequently,  take  the  Com 
munion  at  proper  times,  go  to  confession  regularly, 
and,  above  all  things,  present  themselves  at  the  cat 
echetical  examination,  called  dottrina,  held  by  the 
priests  in  the  several  parish  churches  after  morning 
service  on  Sunday.  The  girl  who  absents  herself 
from  the  dottrina  without  a  sufficient  cause  to  justify 
her  absence,  has  a  mark  attached  to  her  name  on 
every  occasion  of  such  truancy ;  which  marks  accu 
mulating  to  the  number  of  three  or  more,  invalidate 
her  claim  to  the  reception  of  the  next  installment  of 
the  marriage  portion,  which  otherwise  would  be  hers. 
According  to  the  age  of  the  recipient,  within  a  cer 
tain  limit,  the  portion  varies;  for  from  eighteen 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  223 

years  of  age  up  to  thirty-five,  the  young  maiden's 
dower  (which  she  is  alone,  however,  entitled  to  receive 
on  her  marriage  day,)  undergoes  generally  a  trien 
nial  increase ;  but  the  limit  of  five  and  thirty  being 
reached  without  a  husband  being  obtained,  the  hap 
less  maid  is  doomed  to  mourn  over  the  destruction 
of  all  her  matrimonial  hopes,  from  her  exclusion 
henceforth  from  the  benefits  of  the  charitable  en 
dowment  through  which  she  trusted  to  win  her  way 
to  marriage.  Poor,  hapless  maid  of  thirty-five,  if 
such  there  be  in  Florence  !  Who  cannot  sympathize 
with  her  sorrows,  as  she  sees  that  dreaded  day  and 
hour  approach  when  she  loses  every  right  to  claim, 
the  seventeen  years'  accumulating  heap  of  silver 
scudi,  the  due  reward  of  years  of  sedulous  attend 
ance  at  mass,  confession,  and  the  dottrina  I 

Sad,  however,  as  the  old  maid's  fate  is  deemed  in 
Italian  popular  estimation,  it  may  well  be  questioned 
whether  the  Tuscan  spinster's  lot,  in  the  lower  classes 
of  life  at  least,  is  not  in  reality  frequently  a  far  hap 
pier  one  than  that  of  many  by  whom  the  marriage 
portion  has  been  rightfully  claimed.  If  not  actually 
maltreated — as  from  several  cases  that  came  under 
my  own  observation  I  have  cause  to  know  she  not 
unfrequently  is  —  the  Tuscan  wife,  in  the  lower 
classes  of  society,  occupies  the  position  of  a  mere 
servant  in  the  husband's  view;  and  on  afesta,  when 
her  work  is  done,  while  her  husband  goes  forth  to 
enjoy  himself,  she  must  stay  at  home. 


224  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

"  It  would  be  a  fine  sight,  indeed,  for  my  husband 
to  take  me  off  with  him  on  a  pleasure  walk  or 
jaunt,"  said  an  extremely  respectable  woman  to  me 
one  day.  "  What  a  joke  the  neighbors  would  have 
about  it !  how  they  would  shout  out,  when  they  saw 
us  going  arm-in-arm,  lovingly  together,  or  driving 
together  side  by  side,  that  sugar  was  cheap,  honey 
was  plenty,  and  a  hundred  such  like  impertinences ! 
No,  no !  we  Italian  wives  must  just  stay  at  home, 
cook,  dust,  and  clean;  and  if  we  would  lead  peace 
able  lives,  bear  a  frown  or  an  angry  word  with  qui 
etness  and  patience." 

In  addition  to  remarks  of  such  a  nature,  an  ex 
pression  that  became  quite  familiar  to  my  ears  dur 
ing  my  residence  in  Tuscany,  was  little  indicative  of 
feminine  conjugal  felicity  amongst  the  lower  orders 
of  society  in  that  country.  "  "Would  to  heaven  I 
had  never  married  !  "  or,  "  If  I  had  been  wise,  I  had 
never  married,"  was  a  plaint  that,  time  after  time, 
I  have  heard  repeated  by  wives,  in  tones  of  the  most 
unquestionable  sincerity. 

Twenty-three  o'clock  is  the  favorite  hour  with 
the  Italians  at  every  time  of  the  year,  but  more  par 
ticularly  the  summer  season ;  this  twenty-three 
o'clock,  which  the  hour  before  sunset  is  called,  being 
used  by  them  for  purposes  of  recreation  and  amuse 
ment.  At  twenty-three  o'clock  the  merchant  leaves 
his  counting-house,  the  clerk  his  desk,  the  student 
his  books,  the  officer  his  barracks  and  the  idle  gen- 


MANNERS    AND   INCIDENTS.  225 

tleman  his  lounging-chair,  and  go  forth,  with  one 
accord  to  saunter  along  some  fashionable  promenade, 
there  to  smoke,  to  chat,  and  interchange  news  and 
salutations  with  passing  friends.  With  ladies,  this 
hour  is  also  a  favorite  one ;  for  whilst  the  married 
ladies,  equipping  themselves  in  their  most  captivat 
ing  array,  also  go  forth  to  swell  the  sauntering 
throng,  the  unmarried,  to  whom  a  similar  privilege 
is  denied,  station  themselves  at  the  front  windows 
of  their  respective  residences,  deriving  no  small  en 
joyment  from  the  occupation  of  seeing  and  the  con 
sciousness  of  being"  seen. 

O 

Considering  window-gazing  from  an  English  point 
of  view,  it  would  seem  a  sufficiently  dull  and  unin 
teresting  feminine  recreation;  but  viewed  through 
an  Italian  medium,  it  becomes  a  highly  exciting 
feminine  employment.  ~No  young  lady  who  takes 
her  station  at  a  front  window  on  an  afternoon  but 
may  readily  entertain  the  idea  of  captivating  by  her 
charms  the  heart  of  some  passing  stranger ;  innumer 
able  instances  being  known  to  her  of  a  husband 
having  been  obtained  by  a  glance  shot  down  from 
the  altitude  even  of  a  second  story.  It  was  highly 
amusing  to  hear  from  the  lips  of  one  of  these  roman- 
ticalty-wooed  maidens  the  history  of  the  courtship, 
from  the  moment  when  she  first  observed  that  she 
was  the  object  of  the  stranger's  attention,  on  through 
many  successive  afternoons,  blessed  by  the  inter 
change  of  mutual  admiring  glances,  until  the  arrival 
15 


226  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

of  that  happy  hour  when  the  enamored  youth 
made  known  his  name  and  his  position,  and  in  ex 
plicit  terms  demanded  her  hand  in  marriage.  So 
recognized  is  window-gazing  in  Italy  as  a  favorite 
feminine  occupation,  that  few  windows  of  houses  of 
any  pretension  to  gentility,  in  the  principal  streets 
of  Italian  towns,  have  their  inner  lower  ledges  un 
provided  with  cushions,  for  the  especial  use  and 
"benefit  of  the  leaner' s  elbow. 

The  strictness  of  Italian  rules  of  decorum,  even 
with  reference  to  unmarried  girls  in  the  humblest 
classes  of  society,  was  once  illustrated  to  me  in  a 
very  forcible  and  somewhat  amusing  manner.  In 
the  interior  of  a  public  conveyance,  in  which  I  was 
traveling  to  a  small  provincial  Italian  town,  I  had 
for  vis-a-vis  a  girl  of  nineteen,  belonging  to  the  peas 
ant  class ;  a  fact  evidenced  at  once  by  the  peculiar 
costume  she  wore.  Besides  the  latter  and  myself,  a 
lady  friend  of  mine,  and  a  priest,  occupied  the  in 
terior  of  the  conveyance.  The  girl,  on  my  entering 
into  conversation  with  her,  took  particular  care  to 
inform  me  that  she  had  been  waiting  for  several 
days  for  a  good  opportunity,  like  that  wrhich  had 
at  last  presented  itself,  of  returning  home  in  safe 
company.  Arrived  at  the  town  in  which  her  family 
lived,  the  driver  of  the  conveyance  asked  her  to 
alight ;  as  the  ascent  to  the  lane  where  her  parents 
resided  was  very  steep,  and  she  could  walk  with 
ease  the  distance  in  three  minutes.  At  this  request 


MANNERS   AND    INCIDENTS.  227 

the  girl  exhibited  the  utmost  amount  of  indignation, 
and  declared  it  was  one  to  which  it  was  quite  impos 
sible  for  her  to  accede,  without  being  guilty  of  the 
greatest  impropriety.  Walk  alone  to  her  own  house ! 
that  would  be  a  fine  thing,  indeed,  for  her  to  do  : 
what  would  her  mother,  what  would  the  neighbors 
say,  to  see  her  return  in  this  discreditable  way? 
How  could  he  ask  any  respectable  girl  to  commit 
such  an  impropriety  ?  Evidently  considering  that 
such  objections  were  very  reasonable,  the  driver  gave 
up  the  point,  and  the  girl  was  deposited  safely  at  the 
parental  door. 

The  towns  of  San  Miniata,  Colle,  Yolterra,  and 
Fiesole,  in  Tuscany,  all  enjoy  prerogatives  of  a  pecu 
liar  kind.  In  each  one  of  these  small  towns  is  what 
is  called  a  Libro  d'oro  (golden  book),  in  the  pages 
of  which  it  is  only  necessary  to  have  the  name  in 
scribed,  to  change  the  proprietor  of  that  designation 
from  a  plebeian,  perhaps  of  the  lowest  rank,  into  a 
member  of  the  nobility.  Of  course,  as  may  well  be 
supposed,  this  transformation  is  not  effected  on  pure 
ly  disinterested  principles  of  philanthropy;  but  it 
must  be  admitted,  considering  that,  in  addition  to  a 
title,  an  inscription  in  the  pages  of  the  Libro  d'oro 
confers  upon  the  proprietor  of  the  name  inscribed 
the  right  also  to  appear  at  court,  that  the  terms  upon 
which  the  valuable  privilege  is  granted  are  very  mod 
erate.  For  about  thirty  pounds  the  title  of  cheva 
lier,  the  lowest  order  of  nobility,  may  be  obtained. 


228  LIFE  IN   TUSCANY. 

For  double  that  sum  the  dignity  of  baron  can  be 
reached.  A  count  or  marquis's  degree  costs  some 
thing  more;  but  an  aspirant  to  nobility  need  not 
despair  of  arriving  even  at  the  highest  of  these 
grades,  at  the  expense  of  a  hundred  pounds. 

The  inhabitants  of  Fiesole  turned  the  privilege 
their  city  enjoyed  to  a  highly  praiseworthy  use. 
Perched  on  the  top  of  a  steep  hill,  along  the  pre 
cipitous  sides  of  which  no  road  practicable  for  car 
riages  had  been  made,  they  found  themselves,  though 
only  about  five  miles  distant  from  Florence,  in  a 
great  degree  insulated  from  the  world.  A  remedy 
for  this  state  of  things  at  last  entered  the  head  of  an 
ingenious  citizen.  Distinguished  as  was  the  ancient 
Etruscan  city  in  point  of  historical  dignity,  still  it 
had  become,  through  the  agencies  of  time,  a  pover 
ty-stricken  place.  From  a  population,  the  majority 
of  which  found  it  a  difficult  task  to  earn  their  daily 
bread,  the  funds  essential  for  the  construction  of 
even  a  mile  and  a  half  of  road  could  not  possibly 
be  obtained.  But  if  the  inhabitants  of  Fiesole  had 
themselves  no  money  to  expend  in  public  works, 
they  had,  by  a  liberal  exercise  of  the  privileges  con 
ferred  on  them  by  their  Golden  Book,  the  means  of 
raising  the  necessary  supplies  for  the  object  in  view. 
A  suggestion  to  this  effect  being  made  and  approved 
of,  the  scheme  proposed  was  carried  out  with  much 
energy  and  activity.  "  Titles  to  sell !  who  will  buy  ? 
who  will  buy  ?"  was  their  cry,  arid  in  answer  to  that 


MANNERS    AND    INCIDENTS.  229 

cry  came  numerous  demands  for  patents  of  nobility. 
Marquises,  counts,  and  barons  were  created  by  the 
soore;  and  not  a  few  Englishmen  became  ennobled 
through  the  medium  of  a  well-filled  purse.  Money 
flowed  copiously  into  the  exchequer  of  the  impover 
ished  city,  and  sufficient  was  raised  to  make  the 
road  by  which  the  stranger  now  ascends  the  hill  of 
Eiesole  to  visit  the  ruins  of  this  old  Etruscan  city. 

The  term  frutta  (fruit)  is  much  more  comprehen 
sive  in  the  Italian  than  its  corresponding  term  in  the 
English  language,  for  under  the  word  frutta  are  com 
prised  young  peas  and  beans ;  which,  like  the  class 
of  products  with  which  they  range,  are  often  eaten 
uncooked.  In  an  Italian  house  where  I  was  stay 
ing,  my  invariable  refusal  to  partake  of  these  so- 
called  frutta  exciting  some  surprise,  I  explained  that 
I  had  not  been  habituated  to  eat  them  raw;  where 
upon,  in  deference  to  my  prejudices,  the  peas  were 
subjected  to  a  culinary  process  the  succeeding  day; 
but  I  found  to  my  distress  that  the  flavor  of  the 
dish  was  destroyed,  in  the  opinion  of  most  of  the 
members  of  the  family,  since  it  was  scarcely  touched 
by  any  one  but  me. 

To  spill  oil,  and  to  break  a  looking-glass,  are  both 
considered  in  Italy  to  be  evil  auguries,  and  death  is 
inevitably  foreboded  by  the  hooting  of  an  owl  near  a 
sick  man's  window.  The  hair  is  considered  to  be 
acted  upon  by  lunar  influence ;  for,  according  to  the 
popular  creed,  no  one  who  values  an  abundance  of 


230  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

hair  should  submit  his  or  her  head  to  the  hair-cut 
ter's  operations  whilst  the  moon  is  on  the  wane. 

A  few  years  ago  an  occurrence  took  place  in  Tus 
cany,  which  caused  the  most  unbounded  merriment 
to  the  lively  Florentines.  A  young  student  at  the 
University  of  Pisa  fell  under  the  suspicion  of  being 
heretically  inclined,  and  whilst  his  education  was 
still  uncompleted,  he  sickened,  and,  after  a  short  ill 
ness,  died.  Having  on  his  death-bed  refused  the 
offices  of  the  priests,  and  thus  tacitly  declared  his 
disbelief  in  the  tenets  of  the  Church  to  which  he  nom 
inally  belonged,  a  reverend  teacher  in  the  seminary 
considered  that  circumstances  justified  recurrence  to 
a  stratagem,  which,  more  than  any  words,  might 
impress  upon  the  minds  of  the  deceased's  compan 
ions  the  dreadful  consequences  that  the  rejection  of 
the  Catholic  faith  involved.  A  rumor  emanating 
from  this  source,  to  the  effect  that  the  devil  would 
surely  come  to  claim  the  dead  student's  soul,  excited 
a  vague  feeling  of  fear  in  the  mind  of  a  young  man 
who  had  determined,  from  affection  to  the  deceased, 
to  keep  watch  over  the  dead  body  of  his  friend  dur 
ing  the  night  preceding  its  burial.  Actuated  by 
this  sensation  of  dread,  and  having  a  presentiment 
of  the  appearance  of  some  evil  spirit  during  his  lone 
ly  watch,  the  young  man  carefully  loaded  a  brace 
of  pistols,  armed  with  which  he  proceeded  to  his 
post.  Alone  with  the  corpse — that  cast-off  garment 
of  humanity,  whose  pallid,  unchanging  features  and 


MANNERS   AND    INCIDENTS.  231 

cold  impassability  never  fail  to  evoke  in  the  gazer's 
heart  a  feeling  of  awe — and  with  vague  apprehen 
sions  of  being  brought  into  contact  with  beings  from 
another  world,  one  may  fancy  the  thrill  of  horror 
that  ran  through  his  veins,  when  at  midnight  he 
heard  a  rattle  as  of  chains,  and  saw  a  hideous  figure 
approach,  with  horns  sprouting  from  his  head,  and 
a  long  tail  sweeping  the  ground. 

But,  however  appalled  the  young  man  might  have 
been  at  the  apparition,  his  courage  and  presence  of 
mind  did  not  desert  him ;  for,  seizing  a  pistol,  he 
fired,  and  with  so  true  an  aim  that  the  spectre  fell, 
and,  with  a  very  earthly  shriek  of  suffering,  lay 
prostrate  on  the  floor.  "The  devil  is  dead!  the 
devil  is  dead  !  "  shouted  the  young  man  triumphant 
ly,  and  forthwith  rushed  off  to  proclaim  to  his  com 
panions  that  mankind  had  been  freed  from  their 
great  enemy  by  his  hand.  "  The  devil  is  dead !  the 
devil  is  dead !  "  resounded  through  the  walls  of  the 
university.  But,  unfortunately  for  humanity,  it  was 
soon  discovered  that  the  supposed  devil  was  a  very 
undeniable  sample  of  the  human  species,  who  had 
been  dressed  up  in  character  for  the  occasion  to  per 
form  the  devil's  part.  "  All  Florence  rung  with  this 
incident,"  said  the  Italian  lady  who  told  me  this 
tale.  " '  The  devil  is  dead !  the  devil  is  dead  ! '  was 
in  every  one's  lips,  and  the  joke  was  not  let  drop 
for  a  considerable  time." 

At  a  period  when  the  whole  monetary  system  of 


232  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

Europe  was  in  a  most  unsettled  state,  and  when 
monarchs  —  either  to  defraud  their  creditors,  or  to 
force  their  debtors  to  pay  more  than  they  had  re 
ceived,  or  the  tax-payers  more  than  was  due  —  con 
tinually  varied  the  title  and  weight  of  the  coins  of 
their  respective  kingdoms,  the  republic  of  Florence 
was  honorably  distinguished  by  possessing  a  golden 
florin,  whose  weight  and  value  remained  unaltered 
as  long  as  the  republic  itself  endured.  Unhappily 
for  the  traveler,  this  florin  exists  no  longer;  for 
cumbrous,  heavy  and  inconvenient  to  a  degree  are 
the  large  silver  coins  denominated  scudi,  which 
bearers  of  letters  of  credit  and  circular  notes  receive 
in  exchange  from  their  Tuscan  or  Florentine  bank 
ers.  A  gold  coin,  denominated  a  zecchino,  is  indeed 
declared  to  form  a  portion  of  the  monetary  system 
of  Tuscany  at  this  present  day;  but  its  existence 
must  be  a  mere  matter  of  faith  with  most  strangers, 
as  it  was  with  me ;  for  it  certainly  does  not  enter 
into  the  ordinary  transactions  of  purchase  and  sale, 
and  during  the  whole  period  I  was  in  Tuscany,  I 
never  saw  this  coin.  The  Grand  Duke  and  Grand 
Ducal  family  alone,  indeed,  I  was  informed,  enjoy 
the  privilege  of  filling  their  purses  with  gold :  and 
what  a  privilege  this  is,  no  one  can  fully  appreciate, 
who  has  not  retired  from  the  counting-house  of  a 
Tuscan  banker,  groaning  beneath  the  weight  of 
silver  scudi. 

The  reign  of  cheapness  is  attested  in  Tuscany  by 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  233 

the  issue  of  coins  representing  a  value  exceedingly 
small.  For  instance,  the  paolo — worth  a  little  more 
than  five-pence,  English  money — is  divided  into, 
eight  crazie;  and  as  every  crazia  undergoes  a  subdi 
vision  into  five  quattrini,  a  Tuscan  quattrino  repre 
sents  a  value  considerably  below  that  of  the  smallest 
coin  of  England.  In  former  times,  the  quattrino  was 
divisible  again  into  four  denari;  but  the  denaro, 
though  it  still  holds  its  place  in  the  tables  of  Tuscan 
currency,  has  only  now  a  nominal  existence.  An 
other  small  coin,  called  a  soldo,  containing  three 
quattrini,  is  current  in  many  parts  of  Tuscany,  and 
often  causes  the  stranger  infinite  perplexity  and  be 
wilderment  in  small  shopping  transactions ;  for,  as 
a  soldo  contains  three  quattrini,  and  a  crazia  five,  and 
as  payment  for  an  article  is  often  necessarily  made 
in  a  coin  differing  from  that  one  in  which  the  price 
was  asked,  to  ascertain  the  due  amount  of  crazie 
requisite  to  discharge  a  debt  contracted  in  soldi,  or 
vice  versa,  as  the  case  may  be,  involves  a  somewhat 
elaborate  arithmetical  calculation.  "  I  hope  to  learn 
your  language,  but  I  do  not  expect  I  shall  ever  un 
derstand  your  money,"  said  an  English  lady  to  a 
shop-keeper  of  Pisa :  and  I  have  known  several 
persons  who,  even  after  a  residence  of  many  months 
in  Tuscany,  have  never  attained  to  a  thorough 
mastery  over  the  crazie,  soldi  and  quattrini  difficulty. 
In  no  part  of  Italy  is  the  foreigner  more  worried 
with  police  regulations  than  in  Tuscany.  From  the 


234  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

moment  natives  of  other  States  enter  the  Grand 
Duchy,  they  are  under  the  constant  surveillance  of 
officials,  as  well  as  under  the  disagreeable  necessity 
of  contributing  to  the  Grand  Ducal  revenues.*  This 
proceeding  of  the  Tuscan  Government  towards 
foreigners  is  not  only  ungenerous,  but  ungrateful ; 
considering  the  vast  benefit  which  Florence  derives 
from  the  large  sums  of  money  annually  expended 
there  by  tourists  and  resident  visitors.  The  per 
mission  to  remain  even  for  two  or  three  days  in  the 
Tuscan  capital  involves  an  expenditure  of  eight  paoli, 
and  should  the  stay  be  prolonged  beyond  that  period, 
a  license — called  a  carta  di  soggiorno — must  be  taken 
out,  at  a  cost  of  twelve  paoli.  Even  with  this  carta 
di  soggiorno,  the  strangers  who  may  wish  to  reside 
for  some  time  in  Tuscany  are  far  from  being  at  the 
end  of  their  pecuniary  contributions  to  the  police 
authorities ;  for  in  general,  at  the  end  of  every  two 
months,  a  new  carta  di  soggiorno  must  be  procured, 
involving  a  fresh  expenditure.  !N~or  is  this  even  the 
whole  grievance  of  the  matter ;  for,  although  a  carta 
di  soggiorno,  taken  out  in  any  town  in  Tuscany,  gives 
to  the  holder  the  right  of  a  two  months'  unmolested 
residence  in  the  place  where  it  was  granted,  the  vir 
tue  of  this  license  is  limited  in  a  great  degree  to  the 
immediate  locality  of  its  issue ;  for  though,  armed 
with  this  document,  the  stranger  may  travel  through 

*  This  regulation  applies  to  Italians  as  well  as  to  natives  of  France 
and  England,  or  other  countries. 


MANNERS    AND   INCIDENTS.  235 

Tuscany  unmolested  by  fresh  official  transactions, 
yet,  if  a  stay  be  made  in  any  one  place  for  a  longer 
period  than  ten  days,  the  purse  must  again  be  open 
ed  fo  pay  for  another  carta  di  soggiorno.  Sometimes, 
though  very  rarely,  the  expectant  victim  may  es 
cape  this  exaction,  through  some  negligence  or 
oversight  on  the  part  of  the  police.  At  the  Baths 
of  Monte  Catini,  where  I  stayed  for  several  weeks, 
I  found  to  my  satisfaction  that  my  tax-paying  lia 
bilities  seemed  to  have  escaped  the  attention  or  per 
ception  of  the  local  authorities;  but  in  a  succeeding 
place  to  which  I  went  in  Tuscany,  I  did  not  expe 
rience  similar  good  fortune. 

The  custom-house  regulations  of  Tuscany  also 
sometimes  prove  an  annoyance  of  a  serious  kind. 
The  examination  in  the  frontier  Dogana  of  the  State 
being  passed,  the  stranger  who  fancies  that,  as  far 
as  the  Grand  Duchy  is  concerned,  all  luggage 
troubles  are  at  an  end,  will  find,  by  subsequent  ex 
perience,  that  this  idea  is  incorrect,  since  the  en 
trance  into  a  town  of  any  note  in  Tuscany  entails 
the  liability  of  having  the  interiors  of  trunks,  port 
manteaus  and  carpet-bags  explored  anew.  The 
walls  of  the  mediaeval  republican  cities  of  Italy  afford 
a  most  tempting  facility  for  levying  taxes  upon  their 
inhabitants — a  facility  which  is  taken  advantage  of 
by  the  authorities,  who,  through  the  medium  of  offi 
cials  stationed  at  each  gate,  exact  the  payment  of  a 
duty  on  every  imported  article  of  food.  As  not  only 


236  LIFE    IN    TUSCANY. 

the  principal  cities  of  Tuscany,  such  as  Florence,  Pi 
sa,  Sienna,  Lucca,  etc.,  are  girt  with  walls,  but  towns 
of  meaner  note  —  such  as  Prata  and  Pistoia,  con 
taining  scarce  12,000  inhabitants  —  are  similarly 
enclosed,  the  infinite  examinations  to  which  the 
Tuscan  tourist's  baggage  is  liable  may  be  imagined. 
ISTot  generally,  however,  it  must  be  said,  is  the  trav 
eler  subjected  to  annoyance  from  this  source ;  for 
with  many  officials,  the  innocence  of  the  baggage, 
in  regard  to  offenses  connected  with  the  revenue 
laws,  is  taken  on  trust  of  the  proprietor's  word. 
Still,  in  many  instances,  a  different  course  is  pur 
sued  ;  for  though  the  expectation  can  never  of  course 
exist  that  such  articles  as  butter,  eggs,  milk  or 
cheese  will  be  discovered  secreted  in  a  lady's  or 
gentleman's  box  or  bag,  there  are  to  be  found  of 
ficials  who  will  insist  upon  availing  themselves  of 
their  right  of  search,  in  case  the  fee  that  they  have 
demanded  as  the  price  for  its  non-exercise  be  refused. 
But  the  culminating  point  of  vexations  of  this  de 
scription  in  Tuscany  is  attained  at  Leghorn,  where 
not  only  articles  entering,  but  articles  issuing  from 
the  town  are  subject  to  taxation ;  the  latter  additional 
affliction  arising  from  the  circumstance  that  Leg 
horn,  as  a  free  port,  enjoys  the  privilege  of  receiving 
all  foreign  merchandise  free  of  duty  within  its  walls. 
The  officials  at  the  gates  have  thus  a  double  duty 
to  perform,  for  whilst  they  have  to  guard  against 
the  furtive  entrance  of  articles  of  food  within  the 


MANNERS    AND   INCIDENTS.  237 

town,  they  have  to  exert  themselves  still  more  sedu 
lously  to  prevent  the  clandestine  exit  of  Manchester 
prints,  French  gloves,  and,  in  fact,  all  kinds  of  mer 
chandise.  !N"o  inhabitant  of  that  portion  of  Leghorn 
which  extends  beyond  the  walls  can  buy  the  most 
trifling  article  in  the  town,  without  being  obliged, 
in  bringing  it  home,  to  have  recourse  to  some  strata 
gem  to  evade  the  payment  of  heavy  dues.  The  lady 
who  has  bought  a  bonnet  from  some  fashionable 
milliner,  conveys  the  new  purchase  home  upon  her 
head ;  and  each  dress  that  issues  from  the  work 
woman's  hands  is  conveyed  to  its  destination  on  the 
person  of  the  proprietor.  Gloves,  laces,  ribbons, 
boots  and  shoes  are  stowed  away  in  secret  pockets, 
and  many  a  crinoline  has  been  made  to  lend  its  aid 
to  hide  the  smuggling  transactions  of  its  wearer. 
There  is  no  place  in  the  world,  perhaps,  where  the 
contraband  trade  is  so  vigorously  prosecuted,  so  ar 
dently  carried  on,  as  at  the  gates  of  Leghorn.  La 
dy  and  gentleman,  artisan  and  servant,  all  smuggle : 
all  alike  try  to  evade  the  revenue  laws,  and  to  elude 
the  vigilance  of  custom-house  officials ;  and  I  con 
fess  that  on  two  or  three  occasions  during  my  resi 
dence  at  Leghorn,  I  followed  in  this  respect  the 
example  set  me  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  town. 

The  system  of  espionage  which  prevails  under  the 
government  of  the  Grand  Duke  affects  most  preju 
dicially  the  domestic  happiness  of  the  natives  of 
Tuscany,  for  through  its  influence,  mistrust  and  sus- 


238  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

picion  are  infused  into  the  social  intercourse  of  rela 
tives  as  well  as  of  friends.  Even  women  are  some 
times  haunted  by  a  dread  of  treachery  on  the  part 
of  their  nearest  kindred  ;  and  a  strict  injunction  to 
secrecy  often  followed  remarks  of  a  political  char 
acter  that  were  made  to  me.  On  one  occasion  a 
daughter  asked  me  to  refrain  from  mentioning  her 
observations  to  her  father,  and  was  still  more  urgent 
in  her  entreatise  that  I  should  pursue  a  similar 
course  in  reference  to  her  sister;  alleging  in  justifi 
cation  of  her  request,  that  although  she  did  not 
believe  the  latter  was  a  Government  spy,  she  yet 
could  never  divest  herself  of  a  certain  feeling  of 
insecurity  on  the  subject.  This  was  an  extreme 
case,  no  doubt,  but  still  it  affected  me  painfully ;  for 
no  state  of  existence  can  be  more  deplorable  than 
that  in  which  the  Scripture  denunciation  seems  in 
any  degree  to  be  fulfilled:  "A  man's  foes  shall  be 
they  of  his  own  household." 

The  ceremony  of  blessing  the  houses  is  to  the 
stranger  one  of  the  most  peculiar  religious  observ 
ances  of  Passion  week  in  Italy ;  and,  as  this  rite 
may  be  novel  to  others  as  it  was  to  me,  I  shall 
detail  the  mode  in  which  it  was  performed  before 
my  view. 

One  afternoon  in  Easter  week,  as  I  was  reading 
in  my  sitting-room,  my  studies  were  suddenly  inter 
rupted  by  the  entrance  of  the.  maid-servant,  who, 
calling  out  in  a  loud  voice,  "il  prete"  (the  priest), 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  239 

threw  the  door  wide  open  to  give  admission  to  the 
visitor.  Somewhat  startled  by  this  announcement, 
I  glanced  towards  the  door,  just  as  a  tall  young 
priest,  wearing  a  white  cassock,  entered  the  room. 
Keeping  my  seat  —  for  I  saw  at  once  the  visit  was 
not  to  me  —  I  watched  the  priest  as,  preceded  by 
the  servant,  he  advanced  at  a  slow  and  measured 
pace  into  the  room  ;  and  whilst  he  recited  in  a  low 
tone  some  sentences  from  an  open  book  he  held  in 
his  hand,  there  followed  in  his  train .  a  boy  attired 
in  white,  who  sprinkled  the  floor  as  he  proceeded, 
by  swinging  to  and  fro  a  small  vessel  containing 
water.  Progressing  in  this  order,  the  strange  pro 
cession  defiled  before  my  view,  until  reaching  the 
door  of  my  bed-room,  which  was  flung  open  by  the 
servant,  they  disappeared  within.  A  minute  or 
more  elapsed,  during  which  I  continued  to  hear  the 
priest's  low,  mumbling  tones,  and  then  the  procession 
reappeared,  to  defile  again  before  my  view  in  the 
same  order  and  with  the  same  ceremonial  as  pre 
viously. 

Amongst  the  different  ways  of  traveling  in  Italy, 
that  by  vetturino  (as  it  is  termed)  implies  a  mode 
utterly  different  from  any  practiced  in  England ;  for 
whilst  an  hotel  bill  is  ever  an  inevitable  accompani 
ment  of  journeys  performed  within  the  precincts  of 
the  British  Isles,  we  may  travel,  if  we  choose,  through 
the  whole  extent  of  Italy,  from  north  to  south,  with 
only  an  occasional  glimpse  of  one  of  those  unpleas- 


240  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

9 

ant  documents.  Notwithstanding,  however,  this 
happy  exemption  from  a  great  grievance  appertain 
ing  to  an  erratic  life,  the  traveler  by  vctturino  cannot 
make  his  way,  save  through  the  medium  of  a  well- 
filled  purse ;  for  his  immunity  from  the  sight  of 
hotel  hills  'is  only  secured  by  the  payment  of  the 
cost  of  board  and  lodging  on  the  road  to  the  pro 
prietor  of  the  carriage  in  which  he  travels.  The 
essential  difference,  therefore,  between  this  mode  of 
traveling  and  any  adopted  in  England,  consists  in 
the  payment  of  the  whole  expenses  of  the  route  to 
one  person,  who  undertakes,  for  a  certain  stipulated 
sum,  to  convey  the  traveler  free  of  all  extra  cost  to 
his  destination.  "No  vctturino  carriage  will,  however, 
go  beyond  a  certain  distance  from  its  starting-point ; 
at  least,  as  a  general  rule,  there  are  two  stations  be 
tween  which  it  plies  exclusively.  For  instance,  the 
Neapolitan  vetturino  carriage  goes  no  further  than 
Rome;  the  Roman  conveyance  stops  at  Florence; 
and  from  thence  Genoa  or  Venice  is  only  attainable 
under  this  system  by  a  Florentine  vehicle,  or  by  one 
performing  its  return  journey  to  either  of  those 
towns. 

Vetturini  carriages  vary  much  in  size  and  charac 
ter  ;  some  are  small  and  thoroughly  uncomfortable, 
whilst  others  afford  ample  and  even  luxurious  accom 
modation,  to  the  party  of  four  inside  and  two  out 
side  they  arc  in  general  constructed  to  carry ;  and 
when  every  one  of  these  six  seats  are  occupied,  this 


MANNERS    AND   INCIDENTS. 


241 


mode  of  traveling  is  the  cheapest  that  can  be  adopt 
ed  in  Italy.  Though  a  vetturino  carriage  is  usually 
hired  for  the  journey  by  a  family  or  a  party  of 
friends,  yet  in  cases  where  the  number  rendered  de 
sirable  by  economical  considerations  cannot  be  mus 
tered  by  the  parties  themselves,  the  proprietor  of  the 
carriage  will  generally  be  able  to  fill  up  the  vacant 
seats ;  a  registry  being  kept  in  his  bureau  of  per 
sons  who  have  signified  their  wish  to  travel,  about 
a  certain  period,  by  a  particular  route,  to  some  spe 
cified  town. 

The  party  being  made  up,  and  the  price  arranged, 
the  next  step  in  the  business  is  the  signature  of  a 
contract,  which  sets  forth,  in  the  most  precise  terms, 
the  amount  of  scudi  to  be  paid  per  head,  the  num 
ber  of  clays  to  be  occupied  by  the  journey,  the  num 
ber  of  horses  to  be  furnished,  the  hours  for  starting 
and  for  resting,  the  halting-places  for  the  night,  and 
the  three  daily  meals  that  are  to  be  supplied.  This 
done,  half  of  the  stipulated  price  is  paid,  and  in 
case  of  any  alleged  breach  of  faith,  the  payment  of 
the  remaining  moiety  may  be  withheld  until  the 
case  has  been  submitted  to  legal  adjudication. 

In  an  age  of  which  the  characteristic  feature  is  ra 
pidity  of  movement,  it  seems  like  going  back  to  the 
last  century  to  creep  along  in  vetturino  fashion ;  for, 
as  the  horses  are  never  changed  throughout  the 
journey,  a  distance  of  more  than  five  and  thirty 

miles  a  day  is  seldom  accomplished.     To  the  ordi- 
16 


242  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

nary  race  of  eager,  impetuous,  restless  travelers, 
whom  the  British  Isles  annually  send  forth  to  trav 
erse  the  Continent,  this  snail-like  rate  of  progress 
would  certainly  prove  most  intolerably  wearisome ; 
but  to  quiet  temperaments,  the  vetturino  mode  of 
traveling  is  not  devoid  of  charm.  Doubtless,  in  the 
uncertain  climate,  and  under  the  cloudy  skies  of 
England,  the  railroad  system  of  locomotion  is  to  be 
preferred ;  but  in  Italy,  where,  except  in  the  winter 
months,  the  landscape  is  steeped  in  light  by  a  sun 
that,  day  after  day,  pours  down  its  rays  from  a  vault 
of  the  clearest  blue,  a  tincture  of  the  dolcefar  nientc 
in  traveling,  as  well  as  in  ordinary  life,  commends 
itself  to  the  sympathies  of  impressionable  natures  in 
a  considerable  degree.  Many  a  pleasant  scene  re 
turns  to  me  connected  with  my  journey  by  vetturino 
from  Naples  to  Rome ;  scenes  in  which  orange  gar 
dens,  vine-encircled  fields  and  mountains,  bathed  in 
the  warm  tints  of  a  southern  clime,  blend  with  re 
membrances  of  ruined  castles  and  dilapidated  old 
towns. 

But  if  the  slow  rate  of  progress  incident  to  the 
vetturino  system  of  traveling  in  Italy  transports  the 
stranger  back  in  fancy  to  a  bygone  century,  the  same 
effect  is  still  more  powerfully  produced  by  the  dan 
ger  existing  in  that  country  of  a  personal  encounter 
with  highwaymen.  A  hundred  years  ago,  no  Eng 
lish  country  gentleman,  who  left  home  for  London, 
felt  any  assurance  of  reaching  his  destination  with- 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  243 

out  being  plundered  on  the  road  by  robbers ;  and 
he  never  passed  across  a  lonely  heath,  without  cast 
ing  many  an  anxious  glance  around,  to  see  if  mask 
ed  and  mounted  highwaymen  wrere  drawing  near. 
The  stories  told  by  stage-coach  travelers  to  each 
other,  related  chiefly  to  this  theme,  and  so  many 
tales  of  highway  robbery  were  to  be  found  recorded 
in  the  columns  of  the  public  journals,  that  such  ac 
counts  could  scarcely  aspire  to  the  distinction  of 
taking  rank  above  the  mere  commonplace  incidents 
of  the  times. 

But  whilst  with  us  the  phase  of  social  life  marked 
by  the  presence  of  highwaymen  has  passed  away, 
far  different  is  the  case  in  Italy,  for  there  the  trav 
eler  is  exposed  to  the  same  risks  our  grandfathers 
or  great  grandfathers  incurred.  Fostered  by  the 
misrule  which  prevails  throughout  the  greatest  por 
tion  of  the  peninsula,  brigandage  is  rife  not  only  in 
the  Papal  and  Neapolitan  dominions,  but  even  in 
the  better  governed  State  of  Tuscany.  During  my 
residence  at  Florence,  a  diligence  guarded  by  sol 
diers  was  waylaid  near  Arezzo  by  a  band  of  twelve 
brigands,  who,  after  a  sharp  conflict,  fled,  leaving 
four  of  their  number  dead  upon  the  ground.  But 
though  incidents  of  this  description  are  by  no  means 
rare  in  Tuscany,  they  fade  into  insignificance  in 
number  and  interest  compared  with  those  the  Papal 
States  afford  ;  and  to  judge  from  recorded  facts,  the 
brigands  living  under  Papal  rule  are  at  the  head  of 


244  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

their  profession  in  Italy,  in  point  of  fierceness  and 
audacity. 

A  very  daring  feat  was  performed  by  them  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  Velletri,  only  a  few  weeks  "be 
fore  I  passed  through  that  town  on  my  journey  from 
Naples  to  Rome.  An  Italian  gentleman,  residing 
in  Velletri,  drove  out  in  his  carriage  one  autumn 
day,  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  an  estate  he  possess 
ed  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  town ;  but  before 
he  had  reached  his  destination,  and  whilst  he  was 
wTithin  a  mile  of  the  town,  his  progress  was  arrested 
by  a  band  of  armed  brigands.  Being  quite  unpre 
pared  for  such  an  encounter,  neither  the  gentleman 
nor  his  servant  dared  to  resist  the  order  they  re 
ceived  to  accompany  their  captors,  who  led  them 
speedily  to  a  cave.  On  arriving  there,  the  gentle 
man  was  provided  with  a  seat,  and  pen,  ink  and 
paper  being  produced,  he  was  ordered  to  write 
forthwith  to  a  personal  friend  of  his  residing  in 
Yelletri. 

With  a  heavy  heart,  resulting  from  unpleasant 
forebodings  in  regard  to  the  nature  of  the  commu 
nication  he  would  be  obliged  to  make,  the  gentle 
man  commenced  the  note,  in  the  terms  dictated  to 
him  by  the  robber  at  his  side ;  but  before  more  than 
a  few  words  had  been  written,  he  dropped  his  pen, 
with  an  exclamation  of  horror  and  dismay,  on  find 
ing  himself  ordered  to  intimate  that  certain  death 
awaited  him  at  sunset,  if  a  sum  of  eighteen  hundred 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  245 

scudi  was  not  transmitted  to  his  captors  before  that 
time. 

"  It  is  impossible,"  protested  the  prisoner.  "  In 
such  a  town  as  Velletri,  a  sum  so  large  as  that  can 
not  be  collected  before  sunset." 

After  some  discussion  on  the  point,  in  which  re 
monstrances  on  one  side  were  met  by  threats  on 
the  other,  the  brigands  agreed  to  abate  their  demand 
to  twelve  hundred  scudi;  and  the  gentleman,  find 
ing  he  had  no  alternative  but  to  choose  between 
death  or  submission,  wrote  in  the  most  urgent  terms 
to  beseech  his  friend  to  make  every  exertion  to  col 
lect  the  amount  required  in  the  specified  time.  The 
letter  finished,  it  was  given  to  the  servant,  who  was 
despatched  to  town,  with  the  intimation  that  the 
slightest  symptom  of  treachery  on  his  part  would 
infallibly  be  expiated  by  his  master's  instant  death. 

The  day  wore  slowly,  anxiously  onward  to  the 
prisoner  in  the  cave,  his  mind  being  harrassed  with 
the  doubt  as  to  the  possibility  of  the  sum  required 
being  raised  in  time  to  save  him  from  his  threatened 
fate ;  and  as  he  saw  the  sun  approaching  the  hori 
zon  without  any  visible  sign  of  the  returning  mes 
senger,  hope  died  within  his  breast.  At  length,  just 
as  the  fatal  moment  was  at  hand,  an  intimation  be 
ing  given  him  to  prepare  for  death,  the  servant  was 
descried  hastening  to  the  spot ;  and  as  he  brought 
the  stipulated  sum,  the  brigands,  true  to  their  prom 
ise,  liberated  their  prisoner,  and  then  fled  to  the 


246  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

mountains,  to  secure  the  unmolested  enjoyment  of 
their  prize. 

Another  still  more  melodramatic  incident  occurred 
in  the  Papal  States  not  long  ago,  the  heroine  of 
which  was  a  young  lady  of  noble  birth,  residing  for 
her  education  in  a  convent  situated  in  the  immedi 
ate  vicinity  of  the  town  of  Bologna.  An  orphan, 
and  destined  to  inherit  a  large  property  on  the  at 
tainment  of  her  majority,  this  young  lady  was  a 
particular  object  of  solicitude  to  the  nuns  under 
whose  guardianship  she  was  placed ;  and  relying  on 
the  high  walls  which  surrounded  the  convent 
grounds,  they  entertained  as  little  apprehension  in 
reference  to  her  safety  as  they  did  in  respect  to  their 
own.  The  confidence,  however,  which  they  felt  in 
the  security  of  their  position  was  destined  one  day 
to  be  rudely  destroyed  ;  for  a  nun,  while  walking  in 
the  garden,  was  suddenly  confronted  with  a  masked 
and  armed  bandit,  who,  seizing  her  by  the  arm, 
while  he  pointed  a  pistol  at  her  head,  swore  that 
he  would  kill  her  if  she  did  not  immediately  point 
out  the  heiress,  or  deliver  her  up  to  him.  The 
threat  was  effectual ;  for  the  nun,  in  an  agony  of 
terror  that  destroyed  all  presence  of  mind  as  well  as 
all  power  of  utterance,  pointed  to  the  girl,  who  hap 
pened  to  be  visible  on  the  terrace ;  and  the  intended 
victim,  ere  she  was  aware  of  the  danger  that  threat 
ened  her,  was  seized  and  carried  off'  before  the  eyes 
of  the  shrieking  and  terror-stricken  sisterhood. 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  247 

Rejoining  his  comrades  outside  the  convent  walls, 
the  brigand  mounted  a  fleet  horse,  and  galloped  off 
to  the  mountains  with  his  prize. 

This  audacious  act  produced  the  most  intense  ex 
citement  at  Bologna,  but  before  any  step  had  been 
taken  to  liberate  the  girl,  the  brigands,  into  whose 
power  she  had  fallen,  sent  an  intimation  that  they 
w^ere  willing  to  restore  her  for  a  certain  sum.  The 
amount,  however,  which  they  demanded  by  way  of 
ransom  was  so  large,  that  its  payment  would  involve 
the  surrender  of  more  than  half  the  young  lady's 
fortune ;  it  was  therefore  agreed  that  an  attempt 
should  be  made  to  recover  her  by  force.  On  this 
determination  being  made  known,  many  students  at 
the  University  of  Bologna  offered  their  services  to 
effect  the  object  in  view;  and,  under  the  leadership 
of  a  young  man  who  evidenced  the  most  ardent  in 
terest  in  the  captive's  fate,  the  chivalrous  troop  suc 
ceeded  in  rescuing  the  young  lady  from  the  brigands' 
den.  The  conclusion  of  the  tale  was  quite  in  keep 
ing  with  the  romantic  character  of  the  incidents 
detailed,  for  the  heiress  subsequently  married  the 
leader  of  the  student  band  ;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped 
that  they  now  enjoy  as  great  an  amount  of  bliss  as 
in  general  awaits  the  hero  and  heroine  of  fiction. 

The  famous  Claude  Duval  of  robber  literature 
seems  to  have  his  counterpart  in  Italy  at  this  present 
day ;  for,  though  I  am  not  aware  that  there  is  any 
instance  on  record  of  an  Italian  brigand  allowing  a 


248  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY, 

lady  to  ransom  herself  by  dancing  a  eoranto  with 
him  on  the  road,  yet  a  very  Claude-like  spirit  of 
courtesy  was  displayed  by  a  troop  of  bandits,  who, 
waylaying  and  stopping  a  diligence  on  the  northern 
frontier  of  Tuscany,  in  the  spring  of  1856,  not  only 
entreated  the  ladies  to  dismiss  all  fear,  and  politely 
assisted  them  to  alight,  but  gave  bonbons  to  a  child 
to  still  his  cries  of  terror  at  the  sight  of  the  many 
masks.  The  same  spirit  of  courtesy  characterized 
their  subsequent  dealings  with  the  passengers,  for, 
satisfied  with  20,000  franks  of  Government  money 
they  found  in  the  diligence — and  for  which,  proba 
bly,  from  information  received,  they  had  come  in 
search — they  left  untouched  the  baggage  of  the  trav 
elers,  and,  without  depriving  one  of  them  of  purse, 
watch,  or  ring,  took  their  departure  in  the  most 
courteous  manner,  saluting  the  travelers  with  many 
bows,  whilst  uttering  expressions  of  regret  at  hav 
ing  caused  them  alarm  or  inconvenience.  Chival 
rous  brigands  like  these,  however,  are  rare  in  Italy, 
for  brutal  fierceness  and  audacity  are  in  general  the 
distinguishing  features  of  the  Italian  highwayman. 
But  notwithstanding  the  danger  of  encounters 
with  brigands,  tourists  abound  in  Italy ;  and  stimu 
lated  by  the  old  Yyking  spirit  of  love  of  enterprise 
and  change  apparently  inherent  in  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race,  the  Americans  vie  in  number  with  English 
travelers ;  and  vie  with  them  also  in  the  broadcast 
style  in  which  they  scatter  their  money  over  the 


MANNERS   AND   INCIDENTS.  249 

land.  Let  the  English  milord  take  heed,  for  he  has 
a  rival  in  the  field  who  contests  with  him  the  first 
place  in  the  love  and  respect  of  guides,  waiters,  and 
hotel  keepers. 

"  Ah !  signorina,"  said  a  cicerone  to  me  one  day, 
"  it  is  a  very  pleasant  thing,  I  allow,  to  have  deal 
ings  with  your  country  people,  but  I  prefer  to  serve 
the  Americans;  for  while  the  English  give  like 
kings,  the  Americans  bestow  like  emperors." 

A  course  of  foreign  travel  is  theoretically  consid 
ered  to  exercise  a  beneficial  influence  on  the  mind 
through  the  information  it  supplies,  as  well  as  through 
the  new  and  enlarged  views  of  life  it  offers  to  the 
stranger's  notice.  Rational,  however,  as  such  a  the 
ory  seems,  experience  proves  it  to  be  far  from  gen 
erally  true ;  for  though  in  some  instances  the 
predicted  benefit  may  be  found,  yet  there  are  very 
many  of  the  swarm  of  English  tourists  to  be  met 
abroad,  who  return  to  their  own  country  no  wiser 
than  when  they  left  it,  except  in  so  far  as  the  mere 
guidebook  lore  of  Murray  is  concerned.  The  re 
sults  of  foreign  travel  on  the  mind  and  character, 
depend  entirely  upon  the  spirit  in  which  it  is  prose 
cuted,  and  those  who  journey  from  place  to  place,  as 
many  do,  with  no  object  but  amusement,  are  not 
likely  to  derive  much  benefit  from  their  wanderings. 
As  an  illustration  of  this  class  of  tourists,  I  shall 
detail  a  conversation  I  had  with  a  young  English 
gentleman  I  met  iii  Italy. 


250  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

"  You  will  doubtless  visit  Venice  on  your  way  to 
Switzerland  ?"  I  observed,  on  hearing  him  express 
his  intention  to  go  to  Geneva. 

"  I  don't  think  I  shall/'  he  drawled  out,  languidly, 
in  answer ;  "  it  wouldn't  pay,  I  fancy ;  for  I  am 
told  that  the  opera-house  there  is  not  open  at 
present." 

The  idea  of  Venice  being  only  attractive  to  the 
stranger  in  a  musical  point  of  view,  struck  me  as 
being  so  exquisitely  ridiculous,  that  I  had  a  great 
difficulty  in  maintaining  a  polite  degree  of  gravity, 
as  I  rejoined : 

"  You  are,  I  conclude,  extremely  fond  of  music  ?" 

"  I  can't  say  I  am,"  was  the  reply ;  "  for  I  don't 
well  know  the  music  of  one  opera  from  another ; 
but  for  all  that,  an  opera  house  affords  me  a  pleas 
ant  enough  lounge,  and  helps  me  to  get  through  the 
time  when  I  am  traveling." 

Another  means  resorted  to  by  this  young  gentle 
man  "  to  get  through  the  time,"  was  by  smoking 
incessantly ;  and  I  fairly  shrink  from  the  labor  of 
calculating  the  number  of  cigars  he  must  have  con 
sumed  in  pursuance  of  this  object,  ere,  on  the  com 
pletion  of  his  travels,  he  returned  to  enlighten. the 
London  world  with,  the  result  of  his  foreign  expe 
riences. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

RELIGION. 

F  the  influence  exerted  over  the  heart 
corresponds  in  strength  with  the  im 
pression  made  upon  the  eye,  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church  of  Italy  has  reason  to 
exult  in  the  great  power  it  enjoys.  From 
the  first  to  the  last  hour  of  residence  in  Italy, 
mementoes  of  the  Roman  Catholic  faith  con 
tinually  meet  the  stranger's  sight.  Go  where 
we  may  throughout  that  land,  the  church  is  the 
most  prominent  object  in  the  view.  Not  less,  as 
suredly,  is  this  the  case  in  Tuscany,  than  in  the 
other  States  comprised  within  the  one  common  term 
of  Italy.  In  Pisa,  one-half  of  the  population  of  that 
desolate  place  would  almost  seem,  to  the  stranger's 
eye,  to  be  composed  of  priests.  In  Florence,  though 
the  number  of  that  body  does  not  appear  to  be  so 
great  in  proportion  to  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants, 
one  cannot  walk  a  dozen  yards  without  encounter- 


252  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

ing  a  black-robed  figure,  whose  shaven  face  is  over 
shadowed  by  the  luxuriant  brim  of  a  clerical  three- 
cornered  hat.  "With  scarcely  less  frequency,  too, 
does  the  eye  discern  the  shaven  crown,  the  cord-girt 
waist,  and  the  sandaled  feet  of  the  brown-clad  Ca 
puchin  monk.  Here  and  there,  also,  the  attention 
is  very  probably  arrested  by  the  sight  of  a  burly 
friar,  or  member  of  some  religious  order,  clothed  in 
a  dress  of  spotless  white  ;  whilst  from  time  to  time 
the  Sister  of  Charity,  with  her  snowy  coif  surmount 
ed  by  a  large  straw  hat,  comes  into  view.  On  every 
hand  churches  with  open  doors  silently  invite  the 
sinner  to  prayer,  and  church  bells  cease  not  to  issue 
their  noisy  summons  to  the  same  effect,  with  an  un 
wearying  assiduity  quite  painful  to  the  ear. 

Throughout  the  country  generally,  the  externals 
of  religion  offer  themselves  to  the  stranger's  notice 
in  a  no  less  conspicuous  manner.  "Within  a  niche 
formed  in  the  road-side  wall,  a  picture  or  image  of 
the  Virgin  attracts,  every  here  and  there,  at  very 
short  intervals,  the  traveler's  notice.  In  the  midst 
of  every  small  cluster  of  rural  dwellings,  the  village 
church  is  seen ;  and  in  secluded  spots,  and  bypaths 
worn  almost  solely  by  the  peasant's  feet,  small  ora 
tories  are  found.  In  quiet  lanes  and  narrow  tracks, 
as  well  as  by  public  thoroughfares,  large  crosses  are 
upreared,  to  which  the  emblems  of  the  Passion, 
carved  in  wood,  are  not  unfrequently  attached,  and 
thus  the  unlettered  peasant  has  daily  before  his  eyes 


RELIGION.  253 

a  pictured  Gospel,  wherein  lie  daily  reads  the  his 
tory  of  that  great  sacrifice  which  was  offered  up 
for  human  sin.  Rude,  and  sometimes  ludicrous, 
are  these  representations ;  but  the  details  of  rustic 
artists'  work  are  unmistakable — the  crown  of  thorns, 
the  seamless  coat,  the  scourge,  the  cup  that  held  the 
vinegar,  the  sponge,  and  the  reed  to  wThich  it  wras 
fixed,  the  nails  that  pierced  hands  and  feet,  the  ham 
mer  which  drove  in  the  nails,  the  pincers  that  took 
them  out,  the  hand  that  struck,  the  sword  that 
smote,  and  the  severed  ear  of  the  High  Priest's  ser 
vant,  the  ladder  by  which  the  body  of  the  Saviour 
was  taken  down,  and  the  cock  whose  loud  clarion 
pierced  to  the  depths  of  the  erring  apostle's  soul — 
all  these,  and  other  signs  of  the  same  description, 
are  constantly  displayed  on  the  road-side  cross. 

"With  the  external  emblems  of  faith  thus  abun 
dantly  displayed,  it  becomes  an  interesting  point  to 
ascertain  if  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  exercises  a 
real  sway  over  the  hearts  and  minds  of  the  inhabit 
ants  of  Italy.  The  aged  tree  will  put  forth  leaves 
when  time  has  wasted  its  trunk  to  a  mere  shell ;  and 
the  temple,  with  its  marble  front,  may  still  outwardly 
make  an  imposing  show,  whilst  inside  it  is  moulder 
ing  to  decay.  How  stands  the  question,  then,  with 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church  of  Italy  ?  Are  the 
hollow  tree  and  the  ruined  temple  types  of  its  posi 
tion  at  the  present  hour  in  that  country  ? 

Though  the  answer  might  not  differ  with  regard 


254  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

to  the  position  of  the  church  throughout  the  whole 
of  Italy,  yet  restricting  the  question  to  Tuscany,  it 
is  only  due  to  truth  to  say  that,  from  what  fell  un 
der  my  observation  during  a  ten  months'  residence, 
it  seemed  to  me  that  even  the  warmest  opponents  of 
the  Church  of  Rome  could  not  in  fairness  hut  admit 
that,  far  from  being  a  mouldering  fragment  of  the 
past,  the  church,  though  old,  is  still  a  vigorous  liv 
ing  plant,  wTell  rooted  in  the  hearts  of  the  great 
bulk  of  the  population  of  that  country. 

The  evidences  which  point  to  this  conclusion  force 
themselves  plentifully  on  the  stranger's  eye.  Before 
the  altar  at  which  the  priest  says  mass — whether  in 
the  grand  cathedral  adorned  with  precious  marbles, 
costly  pictures,  and  glittering  with  gold,  or  in  the 
plain,  unpretending  whitewashed  interior  of  the  vil 
lage  church  —  a  throng  of  kneeling  worshipers  is 
always  seen.  Though  some,  perhaps,  may  be  divert 
ed  from  their  devotions  by  the  unwonted  sight  of  a 
stranger  in  their  midst,  yet  these  are  few  compared 
with  those  whose  bended  heads,  unwandering  eyes, 
and  earnest  looks  attest  the  reality  and  fervency  of 
their  faith.  But  whilst  such  is  the  scene  invariably 
displayed  on  every  festa  day  —  when,  amidst  tink 
ling  bells  and  swinging  censors,  the  richly  robed 
priest  offers  up  the  sacrifice  of  the  mass — not  less 
strikingly,  on  ordinary  occasions,  does  the  city 
church  give  evidence  of  strong  devotional  feelings 
on  the  part  of  the  humbler  classes  of  the  land. 


RELIGION.  255 

Between  dawn  and  night,  the  heavy  leather  curtain 
that  hangs  before  the  entrance  of  every  sanctuary 
is  often  raised  to  give  admission  to  the  devotional 
visitant.  Strikingly  impressive  to  the  eye  are  the 
kneeling  forms  which  one  sees  scattered  here  and 
there  over  the  vast  pavement  of  the  grand  columned 
aisles  of  Santa  Croce,  or  bending  low  at  some  side 
altar  before  the  Madonna's  venerated  picture.  The 
servant,  on  her  way  from  market,  with  basket  in 
hand,  the  tradesman's  wife,  with  handkerchief-cov 
ered  head,  the  mechanic,  the  artizan  in  his  work- 
stained  dress,  the  beggar  in  his  tattered  garb — each 
and  all  come,  with  earnest  and*  reverential  mien,  to 
offer  up  their  prayers.  In  country  districts,  a  bunch 
of  freshly-gathered  flowers  is  generally  seen  in  a 
niche  in  the  roadside  wall  before  the  image  of  the 
Madonna,  attesting  the  peasant's  pious  zeal ;  and 
still  more  forcibly  is  the  same  spirit  shown  when,  on 
the  occasion  of  some  church  festival,  he  presses  for 
ward  to  take  part  in  the  procession — to  follow  in  the 
train  of  chanting  priests  in  a  holy  garb  of  black, 
carrying  the  wax-taper,  or  bearing  aloft  the  ponder 
ous  image  or  sacred  banner. 

But,  whilst  the  Koman  Catholic  Church  seems  to 
possess  the  respect  and  love  of  the  lowrer  classes  of 
Tuscany,  its  power  amongst  the  upper  ranks  of 
society  appears  to  be  feeble  and  circumscribed. 
Judging  not  only  from  what  I  saw,  but  from  w^hat 
I  heard,  infidelity  prevails  in  the  upper  circles  of 


256  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

society  to  a  considerable  extent.  To  enter  a  fash 
ionable  church  at  Florence,  at  a  fashionable  hour,  is 
to  witness  a  display  of  vanity,  of  show,  and  irrelig- 
iousness,  and  to  behold  a  sanctuary,  built  for  com 
munion  with  God,  degraded  to  a  theatre,  a  lounge, 
a  haunt  of  idleness.  The  Florentine  lady,  dressed 
out  to  the  last  extreme  of  the  prevailing  mode, 
comes  not  to  pray,  so  much  as  to  exhibit  her  graces 
to  the  eyes  of  admirers.  "Within  the  folds  of  the 
young  lady's  handkerchief  may  not  unlikely  be 
found  a  letter  destined  to  be  transferred  clandes 
tinely,  if  opportunity  offers,  to  the  hand  of  the 
favored  lover.  The 'gentlemen,  on  their  part,  dis 
play,  in  the  most  unambiguous  manner,  how  little 
religion  has  to  do  with  their  appearance  in  the  sacred 
place.  They  stand  together  in  groups  of  two  or 
three,  and  turning  from  the  altar  and  the  officiating 
priest,  gaze  with  effrontery  on  every  lady's  face  ; 
they  talk  together  in  loud  whispers,  smile,  nod  their 
heads,  and  even  indulge  occasionally  in  a  silent 
laugh.  Hypocrites  they  are  not,  certainly,  for  they 
do  not  try  to  cloak,  by  any  affectation  of  devotion, 
the  purposes  of  mere  amusement,  for  which  they 
came ;  they  make  no  pretense  to  pray :  to  bow  their 
head  during  the  elevation  of  the  Host  is  the  only 
religious  act  they  perform.  Truly,  a  visit  to  a  fash 
ionable  church  at  Florence,  at  a  fashionable  hour, 
and  a  visit  to  a  more  humble,  religious  edifice,  fre- 


RELIGION.  257 

quented  by  the  lower  classes  of  the  community, 
afford  as  great  a  contrast  as  can  be  well  conceived. 
"  There  was  not  one  of  all  the  leaders  of  our  party 
who  was  not  an  infidel,"  said  the  wife  of  a  gentleman 
who  had  taken  a  prominent  part  in  the  republican 
movement  in  Tuscany ;  and  this  testimony  to  the 
prevalence  of  infidelity  was  corroborated  from  other 
quarters.  Young  men  who  hope  to  gain  a  govern 
ment  appointment,  which  is  dependent  in  a  great 
degree  on  the  favorable  report  of  a  minister  of  the 
church,  adopt  a  stratagem  to  save  themselves  from 
going  to  confession  at  the  period  obligatory  on  every 
Catholic  for  this  rite  to  be  performed.  A  short  time 
before  Easter,  every  house  is  visited  by  a  priest,  not 
only  to  bless  it,  and  sprinkle  each  room  with  holy 
water,  but  to  write  down  the  name  of  every  grown 
up  individual  therein,  on  each  of  whom  it  is  oblig 
atory  to  appear  in  the  confessional ;  and  a  ticket  is 
given  to  each  one  who  confesses,  testifying  to  the 
religious  duty  having  been  performed.  A  short  time 
after  Easter,  the  priest  makes  his  round  again,  to 
take  back  the  tickets  that  have  been  given,  in  order 
thus  to  ascertain  if  the  ordinances  of  the  church 
have  in  every  instance  been  obeyed.  A  register  is 
kept  of  those  who  can  produce  no  tickets,  and  the 
black  mark  affixed  to  their  names  effectually  bars 
them  from  the  chance  of  obtaining  the  smallest  gov 
ernment  appointment ;  as,  before  such  appointment 
is  conferred,  reference  is  invariably  made  to  the 
17 


258  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

minister  of  the  parish  in  which  the  applicant  for 
office  resides,  to  know  if  the  religious  duties  of  such 
applicant  have  been  properly  fulfilled.  To  avoid, 
therefore,  the  pains  and  penalties  that  follow  on  the 
priest's  unfavorable  report,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
to  escape  from  the  abhorred  obligations  of  the  con 
fessional,  young  men  are  in  the  habit  of  buying  up 
the  services  of  not  over-scrupulous  consciences,  who, 
fulfilling  the  obligatory  rite  in  the  names  of  their 
employers,  receive  a  ticket,  which  is  duly  delivered 
up  at  the  required  time.  An  Italian  Catholic  assured 
me  that  this  confessional  agency  business  was  a 
thriving  trade  in  Florence,  and  that  in  many  instan 
ces  one  young  man  would,  under  the  names  of  his 
different  employers,  visit  in  the  course  of  a  few  days 
a  dozen  confessionals  in  Florence ;  and  of  course 
receive  a  dozen  tickets  purporting  that  Giovanni,  or 
Giuseppe,  or  Gaetano,  or  Tomaso,  etc.,  as  the  case 
might  be,  had  duly  confessed  his  sins. 

But  though  amongst  the  mass  of  the  population 
in  Tuscany,  the  evidences  of  a  warm  faith  in  the 
tenets  of  their  church  may  be  discerned,  their  respect 
and  affection  for  the  ministers  of  that  church  by  no 
means  seem  to  correspond.  On  the  part  of  many 
who  were  extremely  strict  in  the  performance  of  their 
religious  duties,  who  held  implicitly  every  tenet  of 
the  Eoman  Catholic  faith,  I  have  found  a  feeling 
towards  the  priesthood  very  far  indeed  from  a  rever 
ential  one.  At  the  Baths  of  Monte  Catini,  the  mis- 


RELIGION.  259 

tress  of  the  hotel  where  I  was  staying,  a  rigid  Cath 
olic,  told  me  she  avoided  as  much  as  she  possibly 
could  the  admission  of  the  cose  nere  (black  things) 
into  her  house ;  and  she  gave  me  reasons  for  doing 
so,  which  were  anything  but  complimentary  to  the 
ministers  of  her  church.  I  have  heard  avarice, 
stinginess  and  immorality  imputed  to  them,  by  per 
sons  entirely  free  from  all  Protestant  tendencies. 
The  very  bitterest  enemy  of  them  I  knew  was  a 
zealous  Catholic  woman,  who  had  masses  constantly 
performed  for  the  benefit  of  a  deceased  uncle's  soul, 
who  wore  a  medallion  of  the  Virgin  next  her  heart, 
kept  a  bone  of  St.  Anthony  in  her  purse,  and  had  a 
memento  of  some  other  saint  suspended  round  her 

• 

neck. 

Ready  credence  is  given  by  the  gente  bassa  (lower 
classes)  to  every  tale  of  a  miraculous  nature  they 
may  hear.  According  to  them,  heaven  still  com 
munes  directly  with  humanity  in  various  ways ;  the 
angel  or  the  saint  comes  down  from  Paradise  to 
whisper  into  the  slumberer's  ears ;  glances  into  the 
land  of  spirits  are  obtained  at  times,  by  mortals 
spiritually  pure  ;  the  Virgin  smiles  upon  her  devout 
worshipers  through  the  painted  canvas  that  bears 
her  name ;  and  the  touch  of  the  sacred  relic  restores 
vigor  to  the  paralyzed  limb,  hearing  to  the  deaf,  and 
sight  to  the  blind.  As  a  sample  of  one  of  this  class 
of  modern  miracles,  the  following  tale  may  not  be 


260  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

uninteresting,  narrated  in  the  manner  it  was  told  rne 
by  an  Italian  girl : 

"  In  a  convent  in  Florence,  called  the  Santa  Eosa, 
there  lives  a  nun,  a  very  holy  nun,  by  whose  means 
last  year  many  a  one  dying  of  that  terrible  cholera* 
was  cured.  The  convent  belongs  to  one  of  those 
orders  which  shuts  itself  out  most  entirely  from  the 
world  ;  and  the  nun  about  whom  I  am  going  to  tell 
you,  passed  her  days  almost  wholly  in  her  cell,  where 
she  told  over  her  beads,  and  repeated  litanies  to  the 
Virgin  continually.  She  lived  quite  like  a  saint; 
and  surely  she  could  not  have  been  far  from  one 
either,  when  a  real  saint  came  down  from  heaven  to 
speak  to  her,  as  you  will  hear.  Well,  quite  away 
from  the  world  as  this  nun  lived,  she  could  not  help 
hearing  about  the  cholera  when  it  came  to  the  town  ; 
and  how,  week  after  week,  it  was  carrying  off  hun 
dreds  to  their  graves.  Death,  you  may  be  certain, 
was  no  terror  to  her,  for  where  should  she  go  except 
to  the  angels  in  Paradise  ?  But  she,  knowing  that 
many  a  one,  cut  off  in  an  hour  perhaps  by  the  chol 
era,  was  ill-prepared  to  die,  and  had  no  time  to 
make  peace  with  God,  grieved  very  much  at  the 
news  she  heard,  and  she  prayed  very  fervently  for 
hours  together  that  the  scourge  might  be  withdrawn. 

"  One  night,  after  she  had  especially  supplicated 
the  saints'  and  the  blessed  Virgin's  aid,  she  awoke 

*  The  cholera  raged  in  Tuscany  during  the  summer  and  autumn  of 
1855. 


RELIGION.  261 

up  suddenly  from  her  sleep,  and  saw  before  her  a 
form  like  that  an  angel  might  have,  all  radiant  as 
the  sun.  Trembling  greatly,  but  filled  with  joy,  she 
bowed  her  head  with  reverence ;  and  then  came 
words  to  her  ear  that  told  her  it  was  St.  Dominick 
who  was  her  visitor.  After  which,  the  saint  informed 
her  that  he  had  been  sent  down  from  heaven,  in  an 
swer  to  her  prayers,  with  the  power  of  conferring 
on  the  water  of  a  particular  well  in  the  neighbor 
hood  the  power  to  cure  all  such  as  might  be  attack 
ed  with  cholera.  Having  said  these  words,  St. 
Dominick  disappeared,  leaving  the  nun  filled  with 
joy  and  thanksgiving;  but  when  morning  came, 
she,  thinking  what  a  poor  sinful  creature  she  was, 
and  of  the  unlikelihood  from  this  cause,  that  any 
saint  should  be  sent  from  Paradise  to  talk  with  her, 
began  strongly  to  doubt  the  reality  of  the  vision  she 
saw;  and  at  last,  persuading  herself  that  she  had 
been  deluded  by  a  dream,  she  determined  not  to 
breathe  a  word  upon  the  matter  to  her  sister  nuns ; 
particularly  now  that  she  recalled  to  mind  that  the 
well  referred  to  in  the  midnight  vision  had  long  been 
dry. 

"  On  the  succeeding  night,  however,  all  doubts  as 
to  the  reality  of  the  vision  she  had  seen  were  re 
moved  ;  for  once  more  appeared  the  radiant  light, 
and  the  form  of  the  glorified  saint,  and  once  more 
he  spoke  to  her,  repeating  what  he  had  said  be 
fore  about  the  powers  conferred  upon  the  water  of 


262  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

a  particular  well  to  cure ;  and  reproving  her  for  her 
incredulity,  he  told  her  to  loose  no  time  in  making 
known  the  good  tidings  to  the  world.  Then,  in 
obedience  to  the  holy  saint,  the  nun  on  the  next 
morning  communicated  to  her  sisters  and  to  her 
confessor  what  had  occurred ;  and  on  hearing  the 
intelligence,  the  confessor  going  off  to  see  the  well, 
found  it,  not  dry  as  it  had  been  for  years  and  years 
before,  but  filled  up  with  water  to  the  brim  —  a  cer 
tain  proof  of  the  truth  of  all  that  the  nun  had  told. 
The  news  of  the  miracle  that  had  been  wrought 

o 

spreading  far  and  near,  the  people,  not  only  of  the 
town,  but  from  the  country,  came  flocking  to  the 
well  with  bottles  to  be  filled ;  and  the  blessed  water 
did  indeed  work  many  miraculous  cures." 

The  special  intervention  of  the  Virgin  in  cases  of 
danger  and  sickness,  is  thoroughly  believed  to  be  a 
circumstance  of  almost  daily  occurrence.  In  the 
church  of  the  Annunciata  in  Florence,  is  a  fresco  of 
the  Annunciation,  painted  by  angels  (according  to 
popular  belief),  and  possessing  also,  according  to 
the  same  authority,  miraculous  powers  to  heal. 
Confidence  in  the  supernatural  gifts  popularly  as 
cribed  to  this  picture  must  in  all  probability  have 
recently  received  a  great  increase,  as  the  Virgin,  in 
this  piece  of  angelic  workmanship,  has  lately  been 
crowned  with  a  glittering  diadem,  costing  8,000/. 
This  picture  is  only  exposed  on  extraordinary  occa 
sions  ;  such,  for  instance,  as  the  Feast  of  the  An- 


RELIGION.  263 

nunciation,  or  during  a  period  when  death,  may 
happen  to  be  menacing  the  life  of  any  of  the  mem 
bers  of  the  Grand  Ducal  family :  in  whose  behoof  it 
is  supposed  the  uncovered  face  has  power  to  expel 
from  the  suffering  frame  the  fell  poison  of  disease. 
According  to  the  authority  of  the  sacristan  of  the 
church,  a  very  recent  manifestation  of  the  miracu 
lous  healing  gifts  of  the  picture  had  occurred;  a 
young  archduke,  whose  life  was  despaired  of  by  the 
faculty,  being  restored  to  health  by  the  unveiling  of 
the  Virgin's  face  for  a  space  of  three  days'  time ! 

In  the  church  attached  to  the  monastery  of  Monte 
Nero,  situated  in  the  neighborhood  of  Leghorn, 
may  be  seen  a  celebrated  picture  of  the  Virgin, 
which  has  been  an  object  of  veneration  to  the  in 
habitants  of  the  surrounding  district  for  more  than 
five  hundred  years.  The  history  attached  to  this 
picture  is  a  somewhat  curious  one ;  for,  according 
to  the  concurrent  testimony  of  different  writers  on 
the  subject,  this  picture,  setting  off  on  a  long  voy 
age  in  the  year  1345,  sailed  by  itself  from  the  island 
of  ISTegropont  to  the  shores  of  Tuscany ;  where, 
found  by  a  shepherd  at  a  place  called  Ardenza,  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  Monte  Nero,  it  was,  by 
the  direction  of  the  Virgin,  carried  to  the  spot 
where  it  may  now  be  seen. 

Dimmed  and  darkened,  by  the  effect  of  time  and 
the  smoke  of  tapers,  .to  a  degree  that  renders  the 
Virgin's  features  almost  nndistinguishable  to  the 


264  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

distant  gaze — this  picture,  enshrined  in  costly  mar 
bles,  and  occupying  an  elevated  position  above  the 
high  altar  of  the  church,  calls  forth  in  the  humble 
Catholic  feelings  of  the  most  unlimited  reverence. 
More  especially  also  is  this  the  case  with  those 
whose  lives  are  passed  amongst  the  perils  of  the 
deep — a  circumstance  attributable,  doubtless,  to  the 
maritime  peregrinations  of  the  picture,  according  to 
the  traditionary  tale.  To  the  mariner  from  those 
coasts,  that  dull,  dim  painting  awakes  the  liveliest 
feelings  of  reverence  and  devotion  in  his  breast :  be 
fore  it  he  breathes  his  most  fervent  vows;  and 
amidst  the  roar  of  raging  winds  and  waves,  and 
every  danger  to  which  he  may  be  exposed — the  pro 
tection  of  the  holy  "  Lady  of  Storms  "  *  is  ardently 
invoked.  The  menaced  danger  escaped,  the  sailor 
returning  to  his  native  coast,  speeds  to  the  Monte 
Nero  church,  and  there  suspends  a  votive  offering  to 
the  Virgin,  as  a  tribute  of  his  gratitude  to  her  who 
in  the  hour  of  danger  had  saved  him  (as  he  believes) 
from  death. 

It  is  a  curious  sight  to  see  those  sailors'  offerings, 
mingled  as  they  are  with  others  contributed  by  the 
neighboring  peasantry.  A  bunch  of  cable  cuds 
hangs  in  close  vicinity  to  various  articles  of  feminine 
attire ;  old  coats  and  muskets  range  together,  and  a 
great  stock  of  crutches  cover  a  considerable  portion 

*  An  epithet  applied  to  the  representation  of  the  Virgin  in  the  picture. 


RELIGION.  265 

of  the  wall.  Pictures,  however,  form  the  principal 
portion  of  the  offerings  to  he  seen,  and  the  sides  of 
three  or  four  small  rooms  opening  off  the  church 
are  covered  with  small  pictorial  representations  of 
the  most  tragic  scenes.  Here  is  a  picture  of  a  ship 
ready,  apparently,  to  be  swallowed  up  by  the  de 
vouring  waves ;  which  picture,  according  to  an  in 
scription  underneath,  was  presented  as  a  votive 
offering  to  the  Virgin  by  Angelo  Biondi,  who  on 
the  4th  of  September,  1843,  was  saved  by  the  favor 
of  the  Virgin  from  impending  death.  This  paint 
ing,  the  type  of  innumerable  others  of  a  similar 
kind,  contains,  in  the  corner,  the  representation  of 
the  Virgin  and  Child  appearing  amidst  the  clouds. 
Another  class  of  pictures  (if  such  rude  daubs  de 
serve  that  term)  are  devoted  to  delineations  of  perils 
escaped  by  dwellers  on  land.  The  dwelling  on  fire, 
with  the  alarmed  inmates  descending  from  the  third 
story  by  a  rope,  is  matched  in  artistic  merit  by  a 
composition  representing  a  man  in  the  act  of  tumb 
ling  from  the  roof  of  a  high  house.  Very  desperate, 
indeed,  seems  the  position  of  the  poor  wretch,  over 
whose  head  the  wheel  of  a  carriage  is  about  to  pass; 
but  it  scarcely  yields  in  tragic  power  to  the  repre 
sentation  of  a  scene  where  a  hapless  individual  is 
being  tossed  up  into  the  air  by  an  infuriated  bull. 
Surrounded  by  weeping  relatives,  the  sick,  extended 
upon  their  beds,  appear  as  if  about  to  take  their 
departure  from  this  world ;  and  past  hope  of  cure 


266  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

most  certainly  it  would  seem  are  those  (and  not  a 
few  are  thus  depicted)  from  whose  mouths  there 
flows  a  gushing  torrent  of  blood.  But  time  would 
fail  to  enumerate  all  the  various  instances  in  which 
life  (according  to  the  evidence  of  these  records)  has 
been  preserved  through  the  Virgin's  gracious  aid. 
These  few  examples  are  enough  to  evidence  the 
prevailing  popular  belief  in  the  daily  occurrence  of 
miraculous  events. 

To  no  doctrine  of  the  Church  of  Rome  do  Italians 
seem  to  cling  so  fondly  as  to  that  which  inculcates 
a  particular  devotion  to  the  Virgin.  To  her,  do 
sorrow-laden  hearts  repair  for  consolation  in  the 
hour  of  their  distress ;  to  her,  vows  are  offered  up 
in  times  of  danger  and  sickness ;  and  through  her, 
penitents  hope  to  gain  pardon  for  their  transgres 
sions.  The  sinner  whom  the  thought  of  divine  jus 
tice  confounds,  turns  from  the  presence  of  a  justly 
offended  God  to  kneel  before  the  shrine  of  a  being 
whose  image  rises  before  his  mind  as  the  incarnation 
of  kindness  and  mercy.  In  the  Virgin's  name  the 
beggar  solicits  alms,  and  the  blind,  the  halt,  the 
sick,  and  the  maimed  invoke  compassion  for  their 
infirmities.  The  first  prayer  the  child  is  taught  to 
lisp,  and  the  last  upon  the  dying  man's  lip,  is  one 
to  Mary.  The  shrine  before  which  the  lamp  is 
burning  in  the  city  street,  or  the  image  set  up  on 
high  above  the  peasant's  door,  is  that  of  the  Ma 
donna  ;  her  picture  graces  every  church,  and  before 


KELIGION.  267 

it  bow  down  the  young  and  old,  the  pure  in  heart 
and  the  sin-stained  soul :  differing  in  all  beside,  they 
yet  agree  in  this,  to  do  homage  to  the  Virgin.  On 
no  subject  does  the  preacher  love  to  expatiate  so 
much  as  on  her  virtues  and  her  glory;  fondly  he 
dilates  upon  and  depicts  in  vivid  words  the  sorrows 
of  the  bereaved  and  heart-stricken  mother  on  the 
mount  of  Calvary:  he  paints  her  oppressed  with 
grief  unspeakable,  watching  beside  the  cross  to 
which  was  nailed  the  form  of  her  cherished  Son, 
listening  to  the  low  groans  of  suffering  that  escaped 
his  lips,  and  marking  the  slow  waning  of  the  powers 
of  life,  amidst  the  intensest  agony.  In  another 
strain,  and  in  a  perhaps  still  more  forcible  and  en 
thusiastic  one,  the  preacher  passes  on  from  a  review 
of  the  Virgin's  sorrows  to  a  description  of  the  glo 
rious  privileges  which  now  are  hers,  exalted  by  the 
Saviour's  love  to  a  power  and  dignity  far  beyond 
that  of  the  saintly  and  angelic  throng ;  and  with 
fluent  eloquence  he  describes  the  pleasure  that  she 
takes  in  exercising  her  influence,  and  the  high  pre 
rogatives  with  which  she  is  endowed  for  the  relief 
and  benefit  of  suffering,  sinful  man :  interceding 
for  the  erring  but  contrite  soul,  shielding  youth 
and  innocence  from  harm ;  protecting  the  fatherless 
and  the  forsaken;  pouring  balm  into  the  bruised 
and  grief- stricken  soul ;  and  suspending  the  hand  of 
Death,  when  his  arm  is  raised  to  strike  the  fatal 
blow. 


268  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

In  the  praise  of  Mary,  language  seems  to  have 
exhausted  every  conceivable  epithet  of  veneration, 
eulogy,  and  fondness:  —  "Mother  of  piety,"  "of 
clemency,"  "  of  holy  love,"  "  of  consolation  ;"  "Su 
preme  Queen  of  Heaven  ;"  "  Star  of  the  morning ;" 
"  Queen  of  saints,"  "  of  angels,"  "  of  sinners ;"  "Im 
maculate  lily  of  purity ;"  "  Glass  of  sanctity,"  "  of 
truth,"  "of  holiness ;"  "  Most  blessed,"  "most  ador 
able,"  "  most  glorious  Virgin  ;"  such  are  a  few  of 
the  many  terms  applied  by  the  devout  member  of 
the  Roman  Church  to  the  mother  of  the  Redeemer. 
Everywhere  one  sees  in  Italy  signs  and  evidences  of 
the  most  unlimited  devotion  to  the  Virgin. 

In  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1855,  the  cholera 
raged  violently  in  Tuscany,  and  the  victims  of  this 
terrible  disease  were  numerous  amongst  every  class 
of  the  community :  young  and  old,  rich  and  poor, 
were  alike  stricken.  When  the  cold  of  winter  came 
to  arrest  the  progress  of  the  malady,  great  fears 
were  entertained  that  the  check  would  be  but  tem 
porary,  and  that  on  the  arrival  of  the  warm  weather 
in  the  succeeding  year,  the  scourge  would  be  re 
vived  ;  but  the  winter  ended  ;  spring,  summer,  au 
tumn  came  in  due  succession,  and  no  cholera 
appeared.  The  boon  of  this  exemption  from  the 
dreaded  scourge  was  then  immediately  ascribed  to 
the  "  Blessed  Virgin,"  and  solemn  services  of  praise 
and  thanksgiving  were  ordered  by  the  Church  to  be 
celebrated  in  her  honor  throughout  all  Tuscany. 


RELIGION.  269 

Of  two  of  these  services  I  was  an  accidental  wit 
ness,  being  a  resident  in  the  vicinity  of  the  places, 
at  the  period  there  fixed  on  for  the  thanksgiving 
service  to  be  performed.  The  religious  rites  which 
I  had  thus  an  opportunity  of  seeing,  were  celebrated 
successively  at  the  Baths  of  Lucca,  and  at  Monte 
Kero,  near  Leghorn.  At  the  Baths  of  Lucca,  the 
service  assumed  quite  the  aspect  of  a  festival,  and 
lasted  several  days ;  during  which  period  the  prin 
cipal  church  was  visited  by  many  hundreds  of  the 
country  people  from  the  neighboring  districts,  to 
perform  their  devotions  before  a  large  painted 
wooden  image  of  the  Virgin,  dressed  for  the  occa 
sion  in  a  black  velvet  gown,  and  wearing  on  her 
breast  the  similitude  of  a  heart  transfixed  with 
small  silver  daggers  on  cither  side,  the  symbol  of 
"  Our  Lady  of  Sorrows." 

The  concluding  portion  of  the  ceremonial  took 
place  on  a  Sunday  afternoon  ;  and  in  the  church, 
which  was  densely  crowded,  after  a  fervent  preacher 
had  poured  forth  from  the  pulpit,  in  the  rich,  melo 
dious  language  of  Tuscany,  a  rhapsody  in  the  Vir 
gin's  praise,  many  were  the  candidates  for  office 
who  pressed  forward  to  take  a  part  in  the  proces 
sion  that  had  been  ordained.  In  a  short  time  there 
issued  from  the  church  a  number  of  stalwart  peas 
ants,  bearing  aloft  upon  their  shoulders,  on  a  wooden 
platform  to  which  poles  were  attached,  the  sacred 
image  of  the  Virgin  under  an  overarching  canopy. 


270  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

The  image  was  borne  triumphantly  through  the  vil 
lage,  amidst  two  long  files  of  peasant  women,  girls, 
and  men ;  the  latter  dressed  in  a  long  loose  robe  of 
black,  the  former  wearing  veils  upon  their  heads, 
and  all  with  waxen  tapers  in  their  hands ;  whilst 
priests,  attired  in  their  festival  robes,  chanted  pray 
ers  and  psalms.  The  ceremony  was  a  striking  one 
to  a  Protestant,  and  an  edifying  one,  doubtless,  to 
every  zealous  Catholic,  from  the  air  of  earnestness 
and  devotion  that  characterized  the  appearance  of 
all  the  participators  in  the  performance  of  the 
pageant. 

Although  members  of  various  monastic  orders 
abound  in  Tuscany,  it  would  seem,  judging  from 
the  paucity  of  inhabitants  in  many  of  the  large  re 
ligious  edifices  erected  for  their  use,  that,  in  com 
parison  with  former  times,  conventual  institutions 
are  on  the  decline.  ]S"ear  Florence,  the  extensive 
monastic  building  called  La  Certosa,  belonging  to 
the  Carthusian  friars,  is  occupied  now  by  only 
twenty-four.  At  Monte  Catini  there  is  a  convent 
of  imposing  size,  giving  shelter  now  to  only  one 
nun,  the  solitary  survivor  of  a  sisterhood  whom 
death  has  called  away.  Poor  lone  old  woman ! 
what  a  forlorn  existence  must  be  that  of  hers,  with 
out  companions  to  cheer  her  solitude — without  a 
being  save  her  confessor,  with  whom  she  can  inter 
change  a  thought  or  word  !  Fancy  represents  her 
wandering  with  feeble  steps  through  the  long  pas- 


RELIGION.  271 

sages  and  deserted  cells,  whose  echoes  are  never 
awakened  by  any  footstep  but  her  own,  recalling 
the  faces  and  voices  of  those  who  have  passed  away 
in  slow  succession  from  her  side,  and  whose  mortal 
forms  are  resting  below  the  sod,  where  before  long 
her  own  may  lie.  How  heavily  the  burden  of  life 
must  weigh  upon  her  soul !  "Without  human  ties, 
without  aught  but  religious  exercises  to  fill  up  her 
time — feeble,  infirm,  half  blind — how  fervently  must 
death  be  hailed  as  a  deliverer,  a  benefactor,  a  friend — 
longed  for  and  asked  for  in  earnest  petitions  ad 
dressed  to  the  Throne  on  high  ! 

Fancy  draws  yet  another,  and  perhaps  a  truer 
picture  of  the  solitary  old  nun.  I  see  her  sitting  in 
the  sunshine  with  bent-down  head,  hands  folded  in 
one  another,  and  eyes  half  closed  ;  not  sleeping,  but 
looking  like  one  who  sleeps,  with  no  thought  or 
feeling  save  that  of  a  consciousness  of  the  grateful 
warmth  :  torpid,  listless  :  the  present  a  blank,  the 
past  brought  up  before  her  view  only  now  and  again 
by  the  faint  flickering  flashes  of  an  expiring  mem 
ory  :  a  human  vegetable  :  a  once  reasoning,  think 
ing  creature,  transformed  by  years  of  idleness  and 
solitude,  combined  with  the  effect  of  age,  into  a 
mere  curious  mechanism  of  flesh  and  bone. 

All  monastic  institutions  very  naturally  tend  to 
the  deterioration  of  the  intellect,  the  enfeeblement 
of  the  mental  faculties.  Solitude  is,  indeed,  some 
times  a  great  teacher ;  purifying  the  heart  and  ele- 


272  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

vating  the  mind  ;  but  solitude,  to  effect  such  ends, 
must  address  itself  to  natures  of  a  superior  order : 
to  capacities  above  the  range  of  those  that  fall  to 
the  lot  of  the  ordinary  class  of  mankind.  To  those 
who  can  find  "  sermons  in  stones,"  whose  intelli 
gence  is  sharpened  by  education,  and  who  have  ca 
pacities  to  follow  up  long  trains  of  thought,  and  the 
ability  to  investigate  into  great  moral  truths — yet 
who,  too  weak  to  resist  temptation,  find  themselves 
dragged  into  sin  and  its  attendant  sorrow  by  com 
munion  with  the  world — seclusion  is  a  real,  undenia 
ble  good,  an  unequivocal  benefit.  But  to  ordinary 
intellects,  solitude  is  fraught  with  baneful  conse 
quences  ;  since  for  such  limited  intelligences  a  defi 
ciency  of  ideas  must  necessarily  be  supplied  by  a 
variety  of  sensations,  or  else  the  human  being  de 
clines  into  something  akin  to  a  mere  vegetable.  To 
the  common  herd  of  men  and  women,  the  discipline 
of  life  is  necessary;  hopes  and  fears,  joys  and  sor 
rows,  successes  and  defeats,  affections,  friendships, 
rivalries,  and  all  the  changes  and  chances  of  ordi 
nary  existence  are  required  by  them  to  sharpen  per 
ception  and  to  supply  nourishment  to  thought  and 
imagination.  Vain  is  it  to  contend  against  Xat.ure 
and  Providence  ;  the  material  and  spiritual  portions 
of  our  being,  blended  together  by  its  Creator,  can 
not  on  earth  be  sundered  with  impunity :  the  at 
tempt  to  become  wholly  spiritual,  either  turns  man 
into  a  fevered  visionary,  a  fanatic,  or  else  (as  is  too 


RELIGION.  273 

commonly  the  case)  degrades  him  to  a  mere  brute- 
like,  unreasoning  creature.  In  the  countenances  of 
thq  majority  of  the  many  monks  and  friars  that 
came  under  my  notice  in  Italy,  I  saw  most  unequiv 
ocally  evidenced  the  evils  that  result  from  the  isola 
tion  of  man  from  his  fellows.  Here  and  there, 
indeed,  amongst  that  class,  I  noticed  a  face  through 
which  the  mind  shone  forth ;  but  such  were  few 
compared  with  those  in  whose  dull,  moody  looks  and 
lustreless  eyes  I  read  the  signs  of  a  torpid  or  a  well- 
nigh  blighted  intellect. 

Though  conventual  life,  with  its  loneliness,  its 
isolation,  its  paralyzation  of  the  affections,  is  even 
more  opposed  to  the  nature  of  woman  than  to  that 
of  man,  and  still  more  likely  therefore  to  result  in 
baneful  consequences  to  heart  and  mind;  there 
are  yet  circumstances  in  the  position  of  most  of  the 
religious  sisterhoods  of  Italy,  which  neutralize  the 
evil  in  a  great  degree,  and  give  them,  intellectually 
and  morally,  eminent  advantages  over  most  of  their 
cowled  and  cord -girt  brethren ;  for  many  orders  of 
nuns  enjoy  the  privilege  of  converting  their  convents, 
in  a  great  degree,  into  educational  establishments. 
Numerous  schools  of  this  description  exist  in  Italy, 
and  not  a  few  in  Florence,  where  young  girls,  under 
the  guardianship  and  instruction  of  nuns,  are  duly 
initiated  into  all  that  is  thought  necessary  for  girls 
to  learn.  The  fashionable  mother,  harrassed  by  the 

requirements  of  the  supposed  maternal  duty  of  keep- 

18  » 


274  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

ing  a  constant  watch  over  the  movements  of  her 
young  unmarried  daughter,  gladly  makes  over  the 
task  to  the  pious  sisterhood,  whose  high-walled  pre 
cincts  hid  defiance  to  the  approach  of  lovers.  The 
otherwise  lonely  and  monotonous  existence  of  the 
nuns  is  thus  enlivened  by  many  sources  of  pleasure 
and  interest ;  and  towards  their  young  pupils  they 
become  naturally  bound  by  many  ties  of  affection 
and  sympathy.  Is"or  surely  by  this,  and  by  the  di 
version  of  her  thoughts  for  some  hours  of  every  day 
from  merely  spiritual  things,  does  the  nun's  nature 
become  less  holy,  or  she  herself  less  deserving  of 
mercy  or  salvation,  than  if  from  morn  till  night  she 
sang  hymns  and  repeated  prayers  continually. 

But  even  within  the  walls  of  these  conventual 
seminaries  there  exist  women,  to  whom  the  occupa 
tion  of  teaching  does  not  suffice  to  fill  up  the  void 
which  the  severance  of  domestic  ties  has  caused  in 
their  being.  "  Many  nuns  seem  very  happy  and 
contented,"  said  girls  to  me  who  had  been  educated 
in  convents  ;  "  but  there  arc  some  who  never  smile 
or  say  a  word,  and  who  always  wear  a  sad,  pining 
expression  of  countenance."  A  pining  nun !  what 
painful  ideas  does  such  a  term  evoke :  how  unspeak 
ably  mournful  must  be  the  existence  of  one  who, 
consigned  by  family  influences  to  a  life  for  which 
she  had  no  natural  avocation,  or  who,  abandoned  by 
the  enthusiasm  which  had  impelled  her  to  the  act 
of  worldly  abnegation,  finds  herself  bound  by  irrc- 


RELIGION.  275 

vocable  vows  to  a  lot  wliicli  every  moment  becomes 
to  her  more  wearisomely  monotonous  and  dreary  ! 
How  vividly  in  the  darkness  of  night,  or  in  her 
many  solitary  daylight  hours,  must  rise  up  before 
her  inward  sight  bright  pictures  of  the  world  from 
which  she  is  severed  so  entirely !  Father,  mother, 
sisters,  brothers,  assembled  around  the  domestic 
hearth,  their  faces  bright  with  smiles,  with  gladness 
and  enjoyment ;  strolls  in  company  writh  friends 
and  relatives  under  the  overarching  trees  in  the 
summer  time,  and  seats  by  cooling  fountains  ;  vows 
breathed  forth  of  love  and  admiration ;  the  kind 
husband,  the  merry  children — ideas  like  these  must 
often  rise  before  the  vision  of  the  pining  sister. 
Each  bird  that  wings  its  flight  from  tree  to  tree  in 
the  convent  garden,  each  breath  of  wind  that  plays 
amongst  the  rustling  foliage,  each  filmy  wreath  of 
cloud  that  flits  across  the  bright  blue  sky,  symbols 
of  freedom  as  they  are,  must  all  increase  her  long 
ing,  her  craving,  her  intense  desire  for  liberty. 

An  Italian  lady  told  me  of  an  incident  that  oc 
curred  in  reference  to  this  subject  which  came  under 
her  own  personal  knowledge — an  incident  of  the 
same  kind  that  has  given  the  name  of  the  Fair  Maid 
of  Roncesvalles  a  place  in  song  and  story.  A  girl 
in  the  higher  ranks  of  life  was  betrothed  to  a  young 
oflicer,  who,  being  sent  off  on  a  somewhat  distant 
military  expedition,  had  not  very  long  left  the  side 
of  his  destined  bride,  when  the  intelligence  reached 


276  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

her  ears  that  he  had  fallen  in  an  engagement  with 
the  enemy.  Despair  seizing  her  at  this  news,  she 
declared  that  for  her  the  world  henceforth  had  lost 
every  charm,  and  precipitately  retired  to  a  convent ; 
where,  as  soon  as  conventual  regulations  would  per 
mit,  she  took  the  veil  and  vows.  But  far  too  hasty, 
she  soon  found  out,  had  been  the  act  to  which  de 
spair  had  urged  her ;  for  shortly  after  she  "became 
numbered  amongst  the  sisterhooc(,  some  relative, 
with  thoughtless  cruelty,  conveyed  to  her  the  infor 
mation  that  he  whom  she  mourned  as  dead  was 
alive.  The  effect  of  this  intelligence  upon  the  mind 
of  the  young  nun  was  such  as  to  drive  her  well  nigh 
mad.  From  feeling  her  suffering  spirit  soothed  by 
the  seclusion  in  which  she  lived,  by  constant  com 
munion  with  the  powers  on  high,  the  offices  of  re 
ligion  became  distasteful  —  the  convent  with  its 
silence,  its  repose,  a  prison — her  cell,  a  dungeon  and 
a  tomb.  Wildly  did  she  solicit  freedom  from  those 
with  whom  she  wras  immured.  The  pale  sisters 
heard  with  horror  and  surprise  the  words  which 
issued  from  her  lips.  "  Freedom,  freedom !  give  me 
freedom — without  freedom  I  cannot  live,"  w^as  the 
cry  that,  from  morning  to  night,  resounded  in  their 
ears.  What  was  it  to  her  that  she  was  told  there 
was  wickedness  in  that  cry — that  by  such  a  demand, 
by  the  exhibition  of  such  a  rebellious  spirit,  she  was 
committing  a  terrible  sin  in  the  sight  of  God — that 
she  was  but  dooming  herself  to  sorrow  in  this  life, 


RELIGION.  277 

and  to  everlasting  suffering  in  the  next.  To  such 
remonstrances  she  would  not  listen,  much  less  heed. 

Finding  prayers  and  entreaties  vain,  and  being 
refused  permission  to  communicate  with  her  family 
on  the  subject  of  her  release,  she  resolved  in  her 
frenzy  to  endeavor  to  obtain  the  boon  she  sought, 
through  the  agency  of  hate  and  fear ;  and  to  make 
herself  so  dreaded,  so  detested,  that,  for  their  own 
sakos,  the  nuns  would  be  glad  to  expel  her  from 
their  walls.  Poor  girl !  as  well  might  the  impris 
oned  bird  try  to  gain  its  liberty  by  beating  against 
the  strong  bars  of  its  cage,  as  for  her  to  win  her 
way  to  freedom  by  such  means.  She  might  rend, 
she  might  break,  she  might  tear  up  the  nuns'  favor 
ite  flowers,  she  might  insult  and  maltreat  them,  and 
hurl  imprecations  in  their  ears ;  but  all  she  gained 
by  every  act  of  this  kind,  was  close  confinement  in 
a  darkened  cell.  At  length,  one  day,  having  fortu 
nately  found  access  to  writing  materials,  she  wrote 
a  note — a  short,  frenzied  note  to  her  father,  beseech 
ing  him  to  visit  her;  and  then,  trusting  to  Provi 
dence  to  befriend  her,  she  clandestinely  threw  this 
note  down  from  a  high  window  of  the  convent  that 
looked  out  on  the  high  road  ;  having  previously  writ 
ten  on  the  cover  of  her  note  an  entreaty  that  the 
person  into  whose  hands  it  might  fall  would  send 
it  on  to  its  destination  with  the  utmost  speed. 

Little  to  be  depended  on  as  the  success  of  such 
an  expedient  must  necessarily  be,  the  father  got  his 


278  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

daughter's  letter,  and  in  compliance  with  her  en 
treaty  hastened  to  her  side ;  when,  worked  upon  "by 
her  frantic  prayers,  by  the  sight  he  witnessed  of  her 
distracted  mind,  he  promised  to  do  what  he  could 
towards  the  furtherance  of  her  desires.  From  his 
position,  his  rank,  the  father  had  no  difficulty  in 
communicating  on  the  subject  with  the  Pope ;  and 
having  represented  strongly  the  circumstances  of 
the  case  —  the  impulses  of  despair  that  had  driven 
the  girl  to  take  the  religious  vows,  her  subsequent 
discovery  of  the  falseness  of  the  news  by  which  she 
had  been  impelled  to  the  renunciation  of  a  secular 
life,  the  reaction  of  feeling  that  had  since  then  set 
in,  her  regrets,  her  cravings  for  liberty  —  all  these 
points  strongly  urged  on  the  father's  part,  availed 
so  far  as  to  obtain  for  the  rebellious  nun  —  not  in 
deed  a  revocation  of  the  vows  of  celibacy,  but  a 
permission  to  change  her  residence  from  the  convent 
to  her  father's  house. 

The  convent  in  which  this  incident  occurred,  was 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Terracino,  from  which  place 
my  informant  came;  and  many  a  tale  of  sorrow 
might  perhaps  be  told,  could  one  lift  the  veil  that 
hangs  before  the  lives  of  the  inmates  of  such  out 
wardly  peaceful  sanctuaries.  It  w^ould  be  wrong, 
however,  to  imagine  that  discontent,  unhappiness, 
and  regret,  as  an  invariable  rule,  lurk  under  the 
religious  garb.  I  have  seen  faces  beneath  the  shade 
of  the  white,  spotless  lawn,  which  looked  to  me  the 


RELIGION.  279 

very  type  of  purity  and  peace ;  of  a  quiet  conscience, 
a  mind  that  knew  no  shadow  of  regret,  and  a  heart 
weaned  truly  from  the  vanities  of  this  world. 

But,  whatever  be  the  number  of  purified  hearts 
and  spiritualized  minds  that  may  be  found  within 
the  precincts  of  convent  and  monastery  —  though 
every  nun  might  he  a  saint,  and  every  monk  and 
friar  the  same  —  the  existence  of  such  institutions 
must  still  be  a  source  of  deep  regret  to  all  who 
think  and  feel  that  the  very  essence  of  Christianity 
is  active  charity.  Amidst  the  turmoils  of  a  stormy 
age,  when  the  strong  hand  of  power  smote  down 
the  weak,  the  convent  and  the  monastery  had  many 
claims  to  reverence  and  regard ;  for  in  them  alone 
the  helpless  of  either  sex  could  find  a  refuge  from 
wrong  and  violence :  in  them,  too,  w^as  the  torch 
of  knowledge  kept  alive  during  the  long  night  of 
ignorance  that  darkened  over  the  land.  But  with 
the  change  of  times,  with  the  substitution  of  the  rule 
of  law  for  that  of  brutal  might,  and  the  diffusion 
of  knowledge  everywhere,  monastic  establishments 
as  sanctuaries  for  youth  and  age,  or  as  calm  retreats 
for  the  scholar  and  sage,  have  become  utterly  use 
less.  On  widely  different  grounds  from  those  on 
which  they  rested  in  former  times,  must  they  there 
fore  now  put  forth  their  claims  upon  our  sympathies. 
Acts  of  charity  and  love,  to  extend  a  helping  hand 
to  distressed  and  suffering  fellow-creatures,  being 
the  Christian's  appointed  duty,  in  conformity  with 


280  LIFE   IN    TUSCANY. 

the  teaching  of  the  Gospel,  the  solitary  recluse  in 
his  narrow  cell,  shut  out  from  all  communion  with 
his  kind,  excluded  from  all  opportunity  of  doing 
them  good,  fails  in  the  performance  of  the  funda 
mental  obligations  of  his  creed:  and  failing  thus, 
however  heavenward  his  thoughts  may  flow,  deserves 
more  blame  than  praise.  Like  the  servant  who  hid 
his  talent  in  the  ground,  he  has  turned  to  no  prof 
itable  account  one  single  gift  of  God  with  which 
he  was  endowed.  "What  answer  can  he  give  when 
called  to  the  great  account  ?  What  hungry  has  he 
fed  ?  what  naked  has  he  clothed  ?  what  poor  has 
he  relieved  ?  what  sick  has  he  visited  ?  what  sor 
rowful  has  he  comforted  ?  That  he  loved  his  soul 
more  ardently  than  his  body  he  can  show ;  but  he 
cannot  bring  forth  a  single  proof  as  evidence  that 
he  has  cared  for  any  one  save  himself. 

But  let  justice  be  done.  To  deny  our  sympathy 
to  all  the  religious  orders  enrolled  beneath  the  ban 
ners  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  would  be  unfair; 
since  at  least  one  is  to  be  found,  the  members  of 
which  devote  their  lives  to  the  fulfillment  of  the 
great  requirement  of  Christianity.  It  is  pleasant  to 
turn  from  the  inert  inmate  of  the  convent  cell  to  Ijer 
who  is  truly  termed,  as  her  acts  can  prove,  a  Sister 
of  Charity.  From  bed  to  bed  on  which  the  sick  lie 
stretched,  she  glides  with  quiet  step  on  her  errand 
of  love  and  mercy.  Hers  is  the  self-appointed  task 
to  watch  beside  the  couch  of  pain,  to  cool  the  fever- 


RELIGIOX.  281 

ed  brow,  to  present  the  ever- welcome  cup  to  the 
parched  lips,  to  adjust  the  pillows  for  the  aching 
head,  to  soothe  the  perturbed  and  terror-stricken 
soul,  and  to  close  the  glazed  eyes  of  death.  Patient, 
enduring,  untiring  and  unflagging  in  her  zeal,  she 
is  ready  at  every  hour,  by  day  or  night,  to  respond 
to  the  call  of  suffering.  Through  noisome  streets, 
through  pestilential  lanes,  the  abodes  of  poverty  and 
vice,  she  takes  her  way ;  she  climbs  the  ladder  to 
the  attic  where  the  sufferer  lies,  or  descending  to 
the  cellar's  damp-stained  walls,  she  takes  her  seat 
011  the  oozy  floor,  beside  the  bed  of  straw  on  which 
lies  stretched  the  victim  of  starvation  or  disease. 
She  braves  contagion  fearlessly,  and  undauntedly, 
in  the  discharge  of  her  mission ;  she  enters  the  haunts 
of  crime,  the  prison  cell,  and  the  beggar's  lair ;  the 
hospital  wards  also  know  well  the  voice,  the  form 
of  the  Sister  of  Charity.  Surely  no  one  can  act 
more  fully  the  heroic  part,  or  deserve  more  richly 
the  applause  of  man,  than  she  who,  uninfluenced 
by  hopes  of  fame,  of  a  place  in  history  or  verse,  con 
secrates  the  flower  of  her  youth,  the  prime  of  her  life, 
to  the  relief  of  suffering  humanity ;  and  we,  who  rev 
erence  and  applaud  a  Fry  and  Nightingale,  should 
not  withhold  our  meed  of  praise  from  those  whose 
acts  are  in  harmony  with  the  deeds  which  have  con 
ferred  honor  and  renown  on  the  names  of  our  two 
noble  countrywomen. 


••:  -%«<?>>•  >:-•<  * •«*&*>'*  , 

\.  5%fi  ^>@  ^i !-)^  f/^^-?'^ 

;      G^^\(^V  -^  ^    ~  ^    ^  <:  ,- '  ^  ^'  ^     ^/V  ?     f  x>;  .      - 

VJ^^-^^O^ ^.BBB 


CHAPTER  X. 

COMPAGNIA   DELLA   MISERICORDIA.* 

F  the  many  unfamiliar  objects  which 
arrested  my  attention  in  the  streets 
of  Florence,  none  excited  so  forcibly 
my  feelings  of  curiosity  and  surprise 
as  the  sight  of  the  members  of  the  Brother 
hood  of  the  Misericordia.  Certainly  the 
garb  adopted  by  this  fraternity  when  on  du 
ty  is  one  more  likely  to  suggest  the  idea  of 
deeds  of  wickedness  than  acts  of  virtue;  and  when 
they  are  first  beheld,  clothed  in  a  long  monastic 
dress  —  a  mass  of  black  from  head  to  foot  —  their 
heads  entirely  enshrouded  in  close-fitting  hoods,  and 
their  eyes  glaring  out  through  two  small  apertures 
in  the  black  calico  veil  which  hangs  down  loosely 
before  their  faces  —  they  present  a  sight  calculated 
to  startle  any  individual  afflicted  with  sensitive 


*  Brotherhood  of  Mercy. 


COMPAGNIA   DELL  A   MISEBICORDIA.  283 

nerves.  Hideous,  however,  as  is  the  dress,  it  yet 
has  the  merit  of  fulfilling  the  object  for  which  it  was 
designed,  as  it  shrouds  completely  the  individual 
by  whom  it  is  worn.  Under  the  folds  of  that  black 
dress,  and  beneath  the  cappa,  as  the  united  mask 
and  hood  are  termed,  a  wife  could  not  possibly 
recognize  her  husband,  a  sister  her  brother,  or  a 
mother  her  son,  so  perfect  is  the  disguise. 

The  Society  of  the  Misericordia  is  a  time-honored 
institution  in  Tuscany,  and  tradition  dates  its  origin 
in  Florence  from  an  early  period  of  the  thirteenth 
century.  According  to  the  authority  I  now  follow 
on  the  subject,  this  institution  owed  its  origin  to  the 
humanity  of  a  certain  Pietro  Borsi,  a  common  porter, 
who,  with  others  of  his  profession,  frequented  the 
Piazza  San  Giovanni  for  the  purpose  of  hiring  out 
their  services  to  the  merchants  of  the  town.  Brisk 
ly,  however,  as  commercial  transactions  were  car 
ried  on  in  Florence  at  that  time,  the  number  of 
porters  was  so  much  in  excess  of  the  number  for 
whom  employment  could  be  found,  that  the  different 
members  of  this  fraternity  had  daily  many  unoc 
cupied  hours  on  their  hands.  Seeing  this,  and 
thinking  it  a  pity  that  so  much  time  should  be  wast 
ed  unprofitably,  it  was  proposed  by  Pietro  Borsi, 
and  assented  to  by  the  rest,  that  a  certain  number 
of  their  body  should  in  turn  take  upon  themselves 
the  duty  of  performing  charitable  offices  towards 
such  sick  and  wounded  of  their  fellow  citizens  as 


284  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

might  be  in  circumstances  requiring  aid.  The 
scheme  prospered  under  the  direction  of  Borsi,  and 
the  porters  went  through  the  different  districts  of 
the  city,  carrying  the  sick  arid  wounded  on  hand- 
litters  to  such  places  as  the  sufferers  might  wish  to 
be  transported. 

The  benevolent  association  thus  set  on  foot  by  the 
porters,  soon  included  members  of  other  callings  in 
its  ranks,  and  it  was  further  consolidated  and  ex 
tended  in  consequence  of  the  great  plague  that 
ravaged  Florence  in  1348.  During  those  frightful 
times,  when  the  Angel  of  Death  was  knocking  at 
every  door  —  when  corpses  strewed  the  streets,  and 
the  busy,  cheerful  hum  of  life  gave  place  to  sighs, 
groans,  and  the  waitings  of  suffering  and  despair  — 
the  Brothers  of  the  Misericordia  discharged  their 
onerous  and  perilous  duties  with  a  zeal  and  assidui 
ty  that  won  for  them  the  protection  of  the  authori 
ties  of  the  town.  For  many  years  the  society 
nourished,  and  the  wealth  with  which  it  became  en 
dowed  from  various  sources,  reached  to  a  consider 
able  amount ;  but  under  the  influence  of  a  misdi 
rected  religious  zeal,  the  society  was  dissolved  by  a 
decree  of  the  Republic  in  1425,  in  order  that  its 
funds  might  go  to  increase  the  revenues  of  the  Ospi- 
talieri,  a  fraternity  instituted  to  supply  the  wander 
ing  pilgrim  with  food  and  lodging  on  his  road  to 
the  Holy  Sepulchre.  The  extinction  of  the  society, 
however,  was  a  loss  very  sensibly  felt  in  Florence, 


COMPAGXIA   BELLA   MISERICORDIA.  285 

on  account  of  the  accidents  and  sudden  deaths  that 
frequently  occurred;  and  the  services  of  the  Miseri- 
cordia  soon  commenced  to  be  very  highly  appreci 
ated  in  the  city,  when  events  of  daily  occurrence 
proved  the  advantages  that  had  arisen,  and  the  evils 
that  had  been  avoided,  through  the  existence  of  an 
organized  charity  to  look  after  the  sick  amongst  the 
destitute  classes  of  the  community,  and  to  secure 
the  decent  interment  of  the  dead. 

An  incident  which  happened  in  the  year  1475, 
was  the  means  of  restoring  to  Florence  its  highly- 
valued  fraternity.  As  a  spirited  and  benevolent 
citizen  was  one  day  walking  through  the  town,  he 
saw,  lying  in  the  middle  of  a  street,  the  corpse  of 
some  poor  friendless,  destitute  outcast  of  humanity. 
Seized  with  indignation  at  this  sight,  the  worthy 
Florentine,  raising  up  the  corpse,  placed  it  upon  his 
shoulders,  and,  laden  thus,  hurried  off  with  his 
strange  burden  to  the  Pallazzo  della  Signoria,  where, 
presenting  himself,  he  demanded  to  speak  with  the 
Gonfaloniere,  the  chief  magistrate  of  Florence.  The 
demand  was  granted,  and  the  Gonfaloniere  having 
appeared,  his  visitor  lost  no  time  in  entering  upon 
the  object  of  his  mission.  Pointing  to  the  ghastly 
burden  he  had  borne,  and  recounting  from  whence 
it  had  been  taken,  he  described  in  strong  and  vivid 
language  the  evil  consequences  that  had  arisen  from 
the  suppression  of  the  Brethren  of  the  Misericordia. 
The  representations  of  the  zealous  citizen,  enforced 


286  LIFE  IX  TUSCANY. 

as  they  were  by  the  mute  but  forcible  pleadings  of 
the  dead,  had  an  eminently  successful  issue ;  the 
suppressed  society  was  speedily  re-established  on  its 
former  footing,  and  before  very  long,  the  influence 
of  its  example  spread  to  the  neighboring  cities.  In 
the  many  pestilences  which  ravaged  the  soil  of  Tus 
cany,  during  a  space  of  four  centuries,  suffering  hu 
manity  was  comforted  and  relieved  by  the  indefa 
tigable  zeal  of  the  members  of  the  Compagnia  dclla 
Misericordia. 

Various  are  the  works  of  charity  to  which  the 
Florentine  fraternity  dedicate  their  time  and  reve 
nues.  At  any  hour  at  which  their  services  may  be 
wanted,  they  transport  patients  to  the  hospital: 
and  to  the  sick  amongst  the  destitute  poor  they  fur 
nish  aid  in  money,  linen,  medicine  and  attendance. 
The  poor  mother  in  her  hour  of  suffering,  whilst 
herself  a  particular  object  of  the  society's  care,  is 
indebted  to  them  for  the  clothes  with  which  she 
covers  her  new  born  infant ;  the  convalescent  owes 
to  them  the  soup?,  and  wine,  and  nourishing  food, 
by  which  his  strength  and  energies  of  mind  and 
body  are  re-established.  The  case,  in  which  rests 
the  fractured  leg  or  arm  of  the  poor  laborer,  t>r 
needy  artizan,  is  the  donation  of  the  fraternity ; 
bandages  for  wounds,  leeches,  cupping-glasses,  baths 
and  medical  appliances  of  every  kind,  all  are  sup 
plied,  as  circumstances  require,  by  this  truly  useful 
and  active  charity. 


COMPAGXIA   BELLA  MISERICORDIA.  287 

Through  the  means  of  an  excellent  organization, 
the  services  of  the  fraternity  are  available  at  an}7 
moment.  The  members  of  the  society,  consisting 
of  all  classes  of  the  community,  are  divided  into 
sections,  numbering  about  forty  in  each  section ; 
and  to  every  section  is  assigned  in  turn  a  certain 
period,  in  which  each  member  of  its  ranks  must 
hold  himself  in  readiness — according  to  his  vows, 
taken  generally  for  a  limited  period — to  obey  the 
call  of  duty.  At  the  sound  of  the  loud  tolling  of 
the  great  bell,  the  brother  of  the  Misericordia,  whose 
appointed  period  of  service  has  arrived,  must  hasten 
to  the  place  of  rendezvous  of  his  fraternity :  it  mat 
ters  not  at  what  hour,  whether  in  broad  mid-day  or 
in  the  dead  of  night,  at  morning's  dawn  or  even 
ing's  dusk,  he  must  instantly  obey  the  summons. 
The  warm  bed  must  be  left  in  the  cold  night  of  win 
ter,  and  the  scorching  heat  of  the  mid-day  sun  must 
be  encountered  in  the  height  of  summer ;  the  rich 
man  must  start  up  from  the  dinner-table  around 
which  his  guests  are  seated,  the  shopman  must  leave 
his  counter,  the  shoemaker  must  put  down  his  awl, 
the  tailor  his  needle — each  and  all  must,  in  accord 
ance  with  the  obligations  entailed  upon  them  by 
their  vows,  hasten  off  without  delay  to  perform  va 
rious  offices  of  charity  for  distressed  and  calamity- 
stricken  fellow  creatures.  N~ow  the  bell  summons  to 
convey  a  fever-struck  patient  to  the  hospital ;  then 
it  rings  out  for  the  same  purpose  in  behalf  of  some 


288  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

bricklayer  or  mason  who  may  have  suffered  grievous 
injuries  by  falling  down  from  a  high  scaffold ;  at 
one  time  it  is  for  the  resuscitation  of  some  half- 
drowned  creature ;  at  another,  for  succoring  the  in 
mates  of  a  house  on  fire ;  and  more  commonly  it  is 
for  transporting  a  corpse  to  its  last  resting-place  in 
some  neighboring  church  or  cemetery.  Various  are 
the  functions  to  be  performed  and  the  duties  to  be 
discharged,  for  which  the  bell  of  the  great  tower, 
that  once  called  the  citizens  to  arms,  now  sends  out 
by  day  or  night  its  mandatory  summons  to  the 
members  of  the  Misericordia. 

The  manner  in  which  the  fraternity  discharge  the 
ofiices  of  charity  towards  the  sick  is  deserving  of 
particular  description.  As  soon  as  that  member  of 
the  society  to  whose  turn  it  comes  to  fulfill  the  office 
of  director — as  soon  as  this  head  watch  (capo  yuar- 
dia,  as  he  is  called),  receives,  a  certificate  from  a 
medical  man  that  a  certain  person,  laboring  under 
disease,  should  be  removed  to  the  hospital — the  cus 
tomary  signal  is  made,  and  at  the  sound  of  the  sum 
moning  stroke,  such  members  of  the  fraternity  as 
are  at  the  time  liable  to  be  called  out  for  duty  has 
ten  to  their  church,  the  appointed  place  of  meeting. 

This  church,  situated  in  the  Piazza  del  Duomo — 
formerly  the  Piazza  San  Giovanni — is  almost  as  an 
cient  as  the  community  to  which  it  belongs.  It  is 
said  to  stand  on  the  margin  of  the  gulf  which  was 
dug  to  receive  the  numerous  victims  of  the  pesti- 


COMPAGNIA   BELLA  MISERICORDIA.  289 

lence  of  1348.  On  the  altar,  a  few  tapers  burn  night 
and  day,  continually,  whilst  six  members  of  the 
order  keep  watch  in  the  sanctuary.  On  the  walls 
are  hung  the  dresses  of  the  community,  as  well  as 
the  torches  which  are  made  use  of  at  night  and  in 
funeral  solemnities ;  and  along  the  floor  are  ranged 
biers  and  litters  for  conveying  the  sick  and  dead  to 
their  respective  destinations.  Hitherto,  this  church, 
whose  pavement  is  never  trod  by  any  foot  but  that 
of  a  member  of  the  fraternity,  the  summoned  broth 
ers  of  the  Misericordia  repair,  to  receive  and  exe 
cute  the  orders  given  to  them  by  their  capo  guardia. 
Enveloped  in  the  black  vestments  of  their  order, 
the  members  of  the  Misericordia  issue  from  their 
church,  marching  two  by  two,  preceded  by  what 
may  be  termed  a  marshal  (bidello),  and  by  four 
brothers  bearing  a  litter  on  their  shoulders.  This 
litter  is  adapted  with  great  forethought  to  every  ex 
igency  of  the  service  in  which  it  is  used.  On  a 
framework  of  wood,  spanned  by  girths  from  side  to 
side,  lie  the  ordinary  appurtenances  of  a  bed ;  the 
mattress  is  always  as  soft  a  one  as  can  be  found ; 
the  sheets  are  ever  clean  and  white ;  the  blanket 
either  heavy  or  light,  according  to  the  requirements 
of  the  season ;  and  the  pillow,  by  an  ingenious  con 
trivance,  can  be  made  to  take  the  particular  slant 
desired.  A  light  low  arching  canopy,  composed  of 
fine  iron  wire,  over  which  is  extended  a  quilt,  or,  if 

occasion  needs,  a  waterproof  covering,  serves  as  a 
19 


290  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

protection  against  the  weather  for  the  occupant  of 
the  bed.  To  the  lower  part  of  the  litter  torches  are 
fastened,  in  case  night  should  overtake  the  brother 
hood  whilst  discharging  the  offices  of  charity  to  the 
sick  without  the  city  walls;  for,  to  a  circuit  of  three 
miles,  measured  from  the  centre  of  the  town,  extend 
the  self-imposed  duties  of  the  fraternity.  Besides 
the  torches,  the  lower  part  of  the  litter  contains  a 
box,  in  which  is  to  be  found  everything  that  the  sick 
might  desire  or  need  during  transportation  to  the 
hospital — water,  wine,  lemon,  sugar,  vinegar,  harts 
horn — all  are  in  readiness  for  service  when  required. 
Provision  is  even  made  for  the  performance  of  the 
last  rites  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  in  case  any 
occupant  of  the  litter  may  be  placed  in  a  position  to 
require  them :  for  in  the  same  box  with  the  restora 
tives  is  found  the  Holy  Oil,  with  which  the  dying 
may  be  anointed. 

Arrived  at  their  destination,  the  litter  is  deposited 
on  the  ground,  and  the  brothers,  entering  the  sick 
chamber,  prepare  to  effect  the  removal  of  the  patient 
in  a  most  tender  and  considerate  manner ;  by  means 
of  a  long,  thin,  smooth  piece  of  bone,  four  strong 
strips  of  linen  are  quickly  and  easily  inserted  below 
the  sick  man's  body,  at  short  intervals,  from  under 
neath  his  shoulders  downwards.  At  a  sign  from 
the  capo  guardia,  the  brothers,  who  each  hold  an  end 
of  the  several  strips,  raise  up  the  patient  sufficiently 
high  to  allow  a  quilt,  which  is  held  ready  by  other 


COMPAGNIA   BELLA   MISERICORDIA.  291 

members  of  the  society,  to  be  extended  beneath. 
The  sick  man  is  gently  lowered  again,  so  as  to  rest 
upon  the  quilt,  and  conveyed  in  it  slowly  and  care 
fully  to  the  litter  wherein  he  is  deposited ;  the  great 
est  care  being  taken  that  he  should  be  placed  in  a 
position  of  the  utmost  possible  ease.  The  bed 
clothes  adjusted,  and  the  protecting  covering  prop 
erly  fixed,  the  object  of  the  fraternity's  solicitude  is 
borne  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  brethren  to  the  hos 
pital  ;  two  of  the  number  walking,  one  at  either  side 
of  the  litter,  on  the  watch  to  see  if  the  sick  man  has 
need  of  anything  on  the  way. 

The  transportation,  however,  of  the  sick  to  hos 
pitals  forms  but  a  small  part  of  the  self-imposed  ob 
ligations  undertaken  towards  that  class  by  the  breth 
ren  of  the  Misericordia.  To  every  district  of  the 
city  is  assigned  a  certain  number  of  individuals  be 
longing  to  the  order,  who,  taking  their  name  from 
the  functions  they  fulfill,  are  termed  Convisitatori. 
Acting  singly,  each  011  his  own  judgment  and  re 
sponsibility,  the  Convisitatore  is  bound  to  see  that 
all  the  sick  people  committed  to  his  care  are  well 
provided  with  everything  they  may  stand  in  need 
of,  in  regard  to  linen,  nourishment,  baths  and  med 
icine.  To  him,  also,  is  committed  the  duty  of  fur 
nishing  the  sick  with  nightly  attendance,  if  such 
should  be  requisite;  and  it  is  on  his  attestation  to 
the  fact,  joined  to  the  certificate  of  a  doctor  to  the 


292  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

same  effect,  that  a  nightly  watcher  from  the  ranks 
of  the  society  is  supplied. 

Thus,  not  only  do  the  fraternity  transport  the  sick 
to  hospitals,  and  look  after  the  wants  of  that  help 
less  class  in  their  own  homes,  but  they  leave  their 
comfortable,  perhaps  luxurious  abodes,  to  watch 
during  the  night  in  cheerless  dwellings,  by  the  bed 
side  of  the  suffering  poor.  This  service  is  discharg 
ed  by  one  member  of  the  company,  on  ordinary 
occasions;  but  by  two,  if  the  disease  be  of  an  aggra 
vated  character,  and  danger  to  life  is  feared.  In 
case  it  may  be  a  woman  who  requires  assistance  of 
this  kind,  the  night  watcher  also  is  a  female,  (for 
several  individuals  of  that  sex  are  included  in  the 
ranks  of  the  Misericordia) ;  but  if  the  sick  woman 
be  dangerously  ill,  a  brother  of  the  order  comes  to 
the  sister's  aid.  Nor  are  the  benevolent  operations 
of  the  society  entirely  restricted  to  the  destitute  poor, 
as  far  as  nightly  attendance  is  concerned ;  for  not 
unfrequently  in  the  dwellings  of  the  upper  classes 
the  pillows  of  the  sick  are  adjusted  by  the  hands  of 
members  of  the  Misericordia  :  and  in  all  such  cases, 
however  humble  the  Tenderer,  and  however  rich  the 
recipient  of  such  services  may  be,  the  nightly 
watcher  is  not  permitted  to  receive  the  smallest 
thing,  either  food,  or  drink,  or  money,  from  the 
family  served,  under  the  penalty  of  a  sudden  and 
ignominious  expulsion  from  the  ranks  of  the  society 
to  which  he  or  she  belongs.  In  order  to  ascertain 


COMPAGXIA   BELLA   MISERICORDIA.  293 

if  tlie  sick  are  tended  with  due  care  and  zeal,  inspec 
tors  and  sub-inspectors  go  out  nightly  from  the  ranks 
of  the  society  to  visit  those  dwellings  of  the  poor 
to  which  the  night  watcher  has  been  sent. 

Amongst  the  various  benevolent  acts  of  the  fra 
ternity  deserving  of  special  notice,  are  the  offices  of 
charity  they  perform  towards  imprisoned  criminals. 
Theirs  is  the  self-appointed  task  of  visiting  the  goals, 
and  of  seeing  that  every  regulation  connected  with 
the  salubrity  of  these  abodes  is  duly  attended  to. 
The  food  provided  for  the  prisoners  comes  under 
their  inspection,  and  not  unfrequently  clothes  and 
linen  are  supplied  by  them  to  those  who,  by  a  long, 
weary  term  of  exile  from  the  world,  are  expiating 
past  crimes  or  misdemeanors.  Under  the  sanction 
of  the  Government  authorities,  they  also  take  meas 
ures  to  provide  that  class  of  criminals  with  the 
means  of  profitable  employment ;  and,  deducting 
only  the  prime  cost  of  the  various  articles  supplied, 
they  leave  to  the  worker  the  full  value  of  his  work. 
On  certain  occasions,  such  as  the  great  religious  fes 
tivals  of  the  Church  at  Christmas,  Easter,  Quinqua- 
gesima,  Pentecost,  and  Ascension  Day,  the  inmates 
of  the  prison  are  provided  with  a  feast  at  the  ex 
pense  of  the  fraternity.  The  conveyance  of  this 
feast  forms  also  a  portion  of  the  duty  of  the  broth 
erhood  ;  and  at  the  periods  above  mentioned,  a  troop 
of  black-robed  brethren  may  be  seen  issuing  from 
the  head-quarters  of  the  company,  walking  two  and 


294  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

two,  each  couple  bearing  between  them  a  large  basket 
filled  with  provisions  of  excellent  description,  cov 
ered  over  with  branches  of  myrtle  and  laurel.  Ar 
rived  at  the  prison-door,  the  baskets  are  deposited 
on  the  ground  and  speedily  emptied  of  their  con 
tents  ;  each  brother  taking  a  dish  and  carrying  it 
with  his  own  hands  to  the  prisoner's  cell.  Who  can 
doubt  the  good  effects  exerted  on  the  prisoner's  mind 
by  each  and  every  benevolent  act  of  which  he  is  the 
object,  on  the  part  of  this  charitable  association? 
The  hearts  of  the  most  abased  of  human  kind  still 
vibrate  to  the  touch  of  kindness  and  sympathy : 
gratitude  is  a  powerful  moral  agent,  a  purifier  of 
the  mind,  a  softener  of  the  heart.  Could  the  inner 
life  of  the  inmates  of  a  Florentine  prison  be  unfold 
ed  to  the  view,  it  is  more  than  probable  we  should 
find  that  many  a  virtuous  resolve,  or  many  a  kindly 
feeling,  has  owed  its  origin  to  the  little  myrtle-cov 
ered  dish  presented  by  the  hand  of  a  Brother  of  the 
Misericordia. 

The  interment  of  the  dead  forms  a  very  important 
part  of  the  f auctions  of  the  society ;  and  the  company 
charges  itself  especially  with  the  duty  of  carrying 
to  the  grave  the  corpse  of  any  poor  friendless  strang 
er  whom  death  has  struck  down  in  some  humble 
lodging  or  tavern.  But  though  such  unfortunates 
commend  themselves  particularly  to  the  sympathies 
of  the  society,  the  burial  charities  of  the  brother 
hood  are  far  from  being  restricted  to  this  class ;  for 


COMPAGNIA   BELLA   MISERICORDIA.  295 

funeral  rites  are  performed  by  tliem  for  those  that 
die  in  their  own  homes  and  amongst  their  kindred, 
in  every  instance  in  which  the  family  of  the  deceased 
is  too  poor  to  provide  the  means  of  decent  inter 
ment  for  their  dead.  For  such,  as  well  as  for  other 
occasions  on  which  the  services  of  the  fraternity  are 
needed,  the  bell  rings  out  its  summoning  peal ;  and 
at  that  sound,  the  members  whose  period  of  active 
duty  has  arrived,  hasten  to  obey  the  call,  generally 
issued  for  this  particular  purpose  at  half  an  hour  be 
fore  sunset ;  and,  marching  in  files  of  two  and  two, 
they  bear  the  bier  with  its  lifeless  burden  to  the 
place  of  sepulcher,  after  having  previously  assisted 
at  the  performance  of  the  customary  funeral  rites  in 
the  church. 

On  the  occasion  of  the  death  of  any  distinguished 
member  of  the  order,  the  society  assembles  in  great 
numbers  to  accompany  the  departed  brother  to  his 
grave.  During  my  residence  in  Florence  I  was  wit 
ness  of  a  funeral  of  the  society  conducted  on  a  scale 
of  imposing  magnitude  ;  the  Misericordia  having  to 
lament  the  loss  of  one  of  its  members  in  the  person 
of  the  Bishop  of  Fiesole,  who  had  been  suddenly 
stricken  down  in  the  midst  of  health  by  a  stroke  of 
apoplexy.  From  the  house  where  the  dead  bishop 
had  lain  in  state,  dressed  out  in  his  episcopal  robes, 
the  lifeless  body  was  removed  by  the  black-hooded 
brethren,  and,  elevated  upon  a  bier,  was  borne  by 
them  to  its  last  resting-place  at  Fiesole.  The  pro- 


296  LIFE    IN   TUSCANY. 

cession  was  a  very  imposing  sight,  seen  from  the  ele 
vation  of  the  steps  in  front  of  the  cathedral,  before 
which  passed  the  funeral  array.  In  vivid  contrast 
with  the  shifting,  stirring  crowd,  and  the  many  forms 
of  animated  life  with  which  the  piazza  of  the  cathe 
dral  was  densely  filled,  was  the  motionless  figure  of 
the  dead  ecclesiastic,  as  with  face  uncovered,  and 
decked  out  with  all  the  insignia  of  his  mortal  digni 
ties,  he  was  borne  aloft,  extended  on  a  bier,  upon  the 
shoulders  of  a  certain  number  of  the  fraternity. 
The  rigid  features  of  the  deceased  ecclesiastic,  and 
his  recumbent  form,  dressed  out  in  all  the  pomp 
of  ecclesiastical  vestments,  the  chanting  priests, 
the  flaring  of  countless  torches,  and  the  long  train 
of  black-hooded  brethren  that  filed  along  through 
the  midst  of  the  bustling  throng,  formed,  altogether, 
a  picture  of  a  very  impressive  character. 

A  charity  of  an  essentially  Italian  character  re 
mains  yet  to  be  enumerated  amongst  the  philan 
thropic  acts  of  the  Compagnia  della  Misericordia. 
It  is  provocative  of  a  smile  to  find  that  young  por 
tionless  girls  are  reckoned  amongst  the  class  of  un 
fortunates  requiring  assistance  from  the  funds  of  the 
charitable  society.  The  hapless  case  of  the  undow- 
ered  maiden  who,  for  want  of  the  heart-subjugating 
power  of  money  to  forge  the  nuptial  bonds,  is 
doomed  to  a  life  of  single  blessedness,  appeals  strong 
ly,  it  would  seem,  to  the  sympathies  of  the  Miseri 
cordia  ;  for,  on  one  particular  day  in  every  year,  mar- 


COMPAGXIA   BELLA   MISERICORDIA.  297 

riage  portions  are  distributed,  with  edifying  solem 
nity,  to  various  girls  belonging  to  the  lower  classes 
of  the  community.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  money* 
thus  bestowed  really  benefits  the  recipients,  and  that 
the  commodities  purchased  by  such  means  do  credit, 
in  some  instances,  to  the  purchaser's  sense  and  dis 
crimination  ;  but,  as  Italian  girls  generally  select 
their  lovers  on  a  principle  far  different  from  that 
which  actuated  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield's  wife  in 
the  choice  of  her  wedding-gown,  this  hope  is  of  a 
very  doubtful  realization. 

The  source  from  which  the  Misericordia  derives 
the  greatest  portion  of  their  revenues  is  from  beg 
ging  :  la  questua,  as  it  is  termed.  This  questua  is 
made  once  a  week  by  ten  brothers  of  the  order,  who, 
dividing  the  town  between  them  into  so  many  parts, 
take  each  his  way  through  his  allotted  district  to 
seek  for  alms.  Attired  in  the  black  dress  of  the  fra 
ternity,  and  shrouded  in  its  impenetrable  disguise, 
the  qiicstuante  may  be  seen  at  an  early  hour  of  the 
day  pursuing  his  mission  through  the  streets  of  Flor 
ence,  with  a  begging-box  in  his  hand.  In  ghostly 
silence  he  carries  on  his  work,  the  only  mode  of  solic 
itation  used  being  the  presentation  of  his  begging- 
box  to  the  passer-by,  accompanied  by  the  appealing 
gaze  of  eyes,  that  peer  through  two  small  apertures 
in  the  black  mask  he  wears.  Into  every  shop  the 

*  The  amount  of  the  girl's  portion,  though  not  received  by  her  until 
the  wedding-day,  is  known  beforehand. 


298  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

questuante  has  free  access ;  for  him  the  doors  of  pub 
lic  offices  and  monasteries  unclose;  into  his  box  drop 
the  silver  of  the  rich  and  the  copper  of  the  poor : 
the  quattrini  of  the  working-man  mingle  with  the 
paoli  of  the  noble.  "Where  the  palace  rears  its  proud 
front  on  high,  or  where  the  dark,  damp  cellar  gives 
shelter  from  the  midnight  air  to  poor  wretches  of 
either  sex  and  of  every  age,  in  streets  where  wealth 
parades  its  silken  robes,  or  in  noisome  lanes  where 
poverty  shows  its  rags,  the  black-shrouded  form  of 
the  begging  brother  of  the  Misericordia  may  be  seen. 
Seldom  does  the  begging-box  remain  unfilled,  for 
rarely  does  either  avarice  or  poverty  refuse  to  the 
questuante  the  small  coin  he  seeks.  On  the  evening 
of  the  day  on  which  the  questua  is  made,  the  ten 
questuante  meet  together  in  the  rooms  of  the  direc 
tor  of  the  society,  and,  each  box  being  opened  and 
its  contents  examined,  the  amount  obtained  is  duly 
registered  and  transferred  to  the  general  funds  of 
the  community. 

Besides  the  regular  weekly  questua,  there  arc  other 
collections  made  occasionally,  for  particular  pur 
poses  ;  at  one  time,  money  is  required  for  the  suffer 
ers  in  some  public  or  private  calamity ;  at  another, 
it  is  wranted  to  give  relief  to  the  poor  family  on 
whom  some  great  calamity  has  fallen  unexpectedly : 
now,  the  collection  is  taken  for  prisoners  ;  and, 
again,  for  procuring  masses  to  be  said  for  the  ben 
efit  of  some  suffering  soul  in  purgatory. 


COMPAGNIA   DELLA   MISERICORDIA.  299 

In  addition  to  the  contributions  raised  by  the 
means  described,  the  funds  of  the  society  are  sus 
tained  by  a  small  annual  tax  imposed  upon  the 
members  of  the  fraternity.  This  tax,  varying 
within  certain  limits  at  the  pleasure  of  the  con 
tributor,  can  never  be  less  than  one  paolo  (5JcZ.),  or 
exceed  five  of  that  coin.  On  the  holiday  of  their 
patron  saint,  or  during  the  course  of  the  eight  fol 
lowing  days,  the  pecuniary  obligations  of  the  mem 
bers  of  the  Misericordia  are  annually  discharged. 

I  have  entered  into  the  foregoing  account  of  the 
history  and  proceedings  of  this  charitable  society, 
not  only  from  the  intrinsic  interest  of  the  subject, 
but  on  account  of  the  estimation  in  which  the  Com- 
pagnia  della  Misericordia  is  held  in  Tuscany.  Before 
a  procession  of  the  black-robed  brethren,  the  crowd 
respectfully  open  and  give  way,  whilst  every  hat,  from 
the  noble's  to  the  beggar's,  is  reverentially  raised  as 
they  go  by ;  and  as  each  man  bares  his  head,  he 
knows  not  but  that  he  uncovers  in  the  presence  of 
the  Grand  Duke  himself,  or  some  of  his  family :  for 
not  unfrequently  the  highest  in  the  land  has  donned 
the  garb  of  the  Misericordia  for  a  stated  period, 
either  from  a  motive  of  a  penitential  kind,  or  from 
one  of  a  purely  philanthropic  nature. 

But  if  to  make  atonement  for  evil  done  and  for 
wrongs  committed,  be  the  motive  which  chiefly 
swells  the  ranks  of  the  Misericordia  in  Tuscan}^ — 
if  in  general  the  impelling  impulse  to  take  the  vows 


300 


LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 


be  remorse  of  conscience — who  would  not  prefer 
the  acts  of  self-mortification  of  the  Misericordia 
penitent,  to  those  of  any  contrite  sinner  shut  up  in 
the  seclusion  of  monastic  walls  ?  Far  beyond  the 
merits  of  sighs,  and  tears,  and  fastings,  and  peni 
tential  psalms,  surely  are  the  lone  midnight  watch- 
ings  by  the  sufferer's  bed,  the  cup  presented  for  the 
parched  lips  to  drink,  the  pillow  adjusted  for  the 
aching  head,  the  visit  to  the  prisoner's  cell,  the  gift 
by  which  the  pangs  of  cold  and  hunger  are  relieved, 
the  prompt  answer  to  the  summoning  peal  which 
calls,  perhaps,  from  the  chamber  of  mirth  and  feast 
ing  to  the  cheerless  home  of  poverty  or  death.  A 
truly  noble  institution  is  the  Misericordia,  one  that 
reflects  credit  on  the  nation  amongst  whom  it  is 
found. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

GALILEO   AND    MICHAEL   ANGELO. 

Y  the  remembrances  which  its  name 
invokes,  Florence  powerfully  com 
mends  itself  to  the  sympathies  of 
every  cultivated  mind.  Distinguish 
ed  in  war,  in  power,  in  industry,  and,  ahove 
all,  in  literature  and  art,  Florence  shines  out 
in  the  prevailing  darkness  of  the  mediaeval 
times  with  a  lustre  peculiarly  brilliant.  The 
woollen  stuffs,  the  gold  and  silk  brocades,  the  pro 
duce  of  Florentine  looms,  were  prized,  renowned, 
and  sought  for  throughout  the  western  world ;  and 
to  Florence  especially  belongs  the  merit  of  making 
the  merchant's  an  honored  name,  and  of  raising  the 
industrial  arts  to  dignity  and  esteem.  Of  all  the 
republics  of  Italy  to  which  the  Middle  Ages  gave 
birth,  Florence  was  the  one  in  which  the  love  of 
liberty  was  the  strongest,  the  cultivation  of  the  in- 


302  LIFE    IN   TUSCANY. 

tellect  the  greatest,  and  the  laws  the  best  framed 
and  the  best  administered.  Noted  for  the  genius  of 
its  citizens,  and  the  intelligence  of  its  people,  to 
Florence  belongs  the  glory  of  having  given  to  the 
world,  during  the  Middle  Ages,  a  greater  number 
of  illustrious  men  than  all  the  rest  of  Italy  was  able 
to  send  forth.  "Whilst  the  darkness  of  barbarism 
still  hung  densely  over  the  British  Isles,  while 
knowledge  there  could  find  no  resting-place  save  in 
the  monastic  cell,  and  art  and  artists  there  were 
terms  almost  unknown,  the  poet,  painter,  sculptor 
and  scholar,  daily  met  together,  as  honored,  cherish 
ed  guests  at  the  rich  and  noble  Florentine's  board. 

But  amongst  the  many  sons  of  Florence  who  shed 
honor  on  that  republic  in  bygone  days,  there  are 
none  who  have  left  behind  them  names  so  wrell  de 
serving  of  our  respect  and  homage  as  Galileo  and 
Michael  Angelo  :  the  first,  astronomer  and  philoso 
pher  combined  —  the  teacher  of  great  truths  to  an 
incredulous  world ;  the  latter,  an  artist  whose  works 
in  painting,  sculpture  and  architecture  occupy  a 
foremost  position  in  the  domain  of  art. 

Florence  is  full  of  the  memorials  of  her  two  great 
sons ;  and  in  Pisa,  where  Galileo  lived  for  several 
years  as  teacher  of  philosophy  in  the  university 
there,  his  memory  is  indissolubly  associated  with 
the  far-famed  Cathedral  and  Leaning  Tower  of  that 
city.  Their  very  stones  are  eloquent  to  us  of  him, 


GALILEO    AND   MICHAEL   ANGELO.  303 

for  with  both  these  structures  are  connected  inci 
dents  of  no  small  moment  in  his  history. 

To  the  philosophic  mind,  trifles  are  often  fraught 
with  teachings  of  wisdom.  The  swinging  of  a  large 
"bronze  lamp  suspended  from  the  roof  of  the  Cathe 
dral  at  Pisa  was  apparently  an  incident  of  the  most 
trivial  description,  but  to  Galileo  that  sight  evoked 
a  train  of  thought  which  resulted  in  the  discovery 
of  the  theory  of  the  pendulum.  Hanging  yet  where 
it  hung  in  the  days  of  that  great  man,  that  lamp 
can  never  be  looked  on  without  interest :  perhaps, 
too,  this  interest  is  heightened  by  the  accessories  of 
the  surrounding  scene.  For  very  beautiful  is  the 
interior  of  the  Cathedral  of  Pisa,  seen,  as  I  have 
seen  it,  when  the  bright  beams  of  a  midday  sun, 
streaming  through  richly  colored  windows,  illumi 
nated  the  nave  with  its  rows  of  splendid  columns, 
lit  up  the  richly  carved  and  gilt  panels  of  the  roof, 
the  age-dimmed  pictures,  and  the  decorated  altars. 
But  still  more  beautiful  was  it  in  the  evening  hour, 
when  the  long  aisles  seemed  to  lengthen  out,  and 
the  lofty  columns  to  grow  more  lofty  in  the  twilight 
gloom;  when  here  and  there,  from  the  distant 
chapel,  the  taper  shot  forth  its  small  starry  gleam, 
and  all  details  of  arches,  columns,  altars,  pictures, 
sculptures  and  carving  lost  to  view,  the  soul  was 
inly  touched  by  the  solemn  influences  of  vastness, 
silence  and  solitude. 

Still  more  suggestive  of  Galileo  than  the  Cathe- 


304  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

dral  is  the  far-famed  Leaning  Tower  adjoining  it; 
for  here  it  was  that  he  proved  by  a  simple  experi 
ment  that  the  doctrines  of  Aristotle,  which  he  had 
been  appointed  to  teach  in  the  university  of  Pisa, 
were  fundamentally  wrong.  Denounced  by  his 
brother  professors  as  an  ignorant  pretender  in  the 
school  of  philosophy,  as  the  defamer  of  an  illustrious 
and  unerring  sage  and  the  disseminator  of  untruths, 
Galileo  eagerly  called  out,  "Bring  my  doctrines  to 
the  test  of  experiment,  and  by  this  prove  whether 
Aristotle's  theory  or  mine  in  regard  to  the  law  of 
falling  bodies,  is  true."  The  challenge  was  accepted, 
and  the  Leaning  Tower  of  Pisa  was  selected  as  the 
place  where  the  demonstration  was  to  be  made. 

Let  us  bring  up  the  past  before  our  view,  and  see 
assembled  round  that  wonderful  Leaning  Tower, 
grave  professors  and  solemn  sages,  who  have  come, 
confident  of  triumphing  in  the  approaching  discom 
fiture  of  an  ignorant  pretender  in  the  paths  of  science 
and  philosophy.  Around  them  cluster  an  eager 
crowd,  looking  with  curiosity  at  that  obscure  young 
man;  who,  though  alone  and  friendless,  the  object 
of  reproach  and  scorn,  yet  strong  in  the  power  of 
truth,  stands  up  before  them  with  sparkling  eye  and 
undaunted  bearing. 

The  experiment  is  to  be  made  by  means  of  two 
balls,  one  of  which  is  twice  as  heavy  as  the  other. 
If  Aristotle  be  right  in  his  theory  of  the  velocity  of 
falling  bodies,  the  heavy  ball,  when  dropped  from 


GALILEO   AND   MICHAEL  ANGELO.  305 

the  summit  of  the  tower,  should  reach  the  ground 
in  exactly  half  the  time  taken  by  the  lighter  ball  to 
pass  through  the  same  space,  both  being  dropped  at 
the  same  time.  If  Galileo  be  right,  the  two  balls 
should  not  differ  one  instant  in  the  rate  of  their  re 
spective  descents.  Nothing  can  be  simpler  than  the 
experiment,  and  nothing  more  clearly  and  easily  as-' 
certainable  than  its  result. 

The  moment  comes  when  the  issue  is  to  be  determ 
ined,  and  at  a  given  signal,  down  drop  the  balls 
from  the  tower :  they  strike  upon  the  earth  in  the 
same  moment  of  time.  A  proud  moment  was  it  for 
that  young  sage,  and  exulting  was  the  look  he  cast 
on  the  discomfited  philosophers.  Again  and  again 
the  experiment  was  repeated,  with  the  same  uniform 
results ;  and  from  that  day  Aristotle  lost  the  sway 
that  he  had  exercised  for  centuries  over  the  human 
mind. 

But  the  pioneer  of  knowledge,  the  discoverer  of 
truths,  needs  a  brave  heart  to  sustain  him  in  his 
battle  against  error  and  ignorance  in  this  world ; 
and  no  one  more  than  Galileo  required  the  endow 
ments  of  a  daring  spirit  and  unflinching  mind. 
Through  his  whole  life  he  had  to  contend  with  de 
termined  incredulity,  and  with  ignorance  that  per 
tinaciously  refused  to  be  enlightened.  "Oh,  my 
dear  Kepler,"  writes  Galileo  to  his  friend,  "  how  I 
wish  we  could  have  one  hearty  laugh  together. 

Here  at  Padua  is  the  principal  professor  of  philoso- 
20 


306  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

phy,  whom  I  have  repeatedly  and  urgently  requested 
to  look  at  the  moon  and  planets  through  my  glass, 
which  he  pertinaciously  refuses  to  do  ! "  Unhappily 
for  Galileo's  lot  in  life,  the  Paduan  philosopher  was 
only  a  fair  sample  of  the  pseudo-scientific  sages  of 
his  day. 

But  bravely  as  Galileo  bore  himself,  for  the  great 
est  part  of  his  long  life,  in  a  continuous  contest  with 
error  and  bigoted  ignorance,  he  was  in  his  old  age 
guilty  of  an  act  of  cowardice  that  has  left  a  deep 
stain  upon  his  memory.  Who  does  not  grieve  at 
the  thought  of  that  old  man  on  his  bended  knees, 
before  the  Cardinals  of  the  Roman  Church,  swear 
ing  that  he  abjured,  cursed  and  detested  as  erro 
neous  and  heretical,  the  doctrine  he  had  held  and 
taught,  that  the  earth  moved  round  the  sun ;  whilst 
in  his  heart  he  knew  that  the  words  he  spoke  with 
his  hand  on  the  Holy  Gospel  were  utterly  untrue  ? 
for,  on  rising  up  from  his  humiliating  act  and  atti 
tude,  he  turned  and  said  to  some  one  near,  "E  pur 
se  muove" — "For  all  this,  it  moves."  Still,  recalling 
to  mind  the  dreadful  torture  of  the  rack,  to  which 
the  aged  philosopher  was  subjected  ere  he  publicly 
abjured  his  belief  in  the  great  and  eternal  truths 
he  had  proclaimed,  we  must  not  judge  him  hardly 
for  this  deed. 

Florence  warmly  cherishes  the  name  and  memory 
of  the  great  astronomer,  and  exhibits  to  this  day 
many  memorials  of  him.  Attached  to  the  Museum 


GALILEO   AND  MICHAEL   ANGELO.  307 

is  a  temple  erected  by  the  present  Grand  Duke  to 
Galileo,  and  here  may  be  seen  the  telescope  which 
revealed  to  him  the  satellites  of  Jupiter.  The  Ob 
servatory  where  most  of  his  observations  on  the 
moon  were  made,  still  exists ;  and  the  stranger  is 
shown  the  residence  where,  blind,  infirm,  and  weigh 
ed  down  by  years  and  humiliation,  his  vexed  and 
suffering  spirit  passed  away. 

But  Florence  possesses  a  still  more  touching  me 
mento  of  her  great  son  than  any  of  those  described. 
In  the  church  of  Santa  Croce,  the  stranger's  step  is 
arrested  by  the  tomb  that  bears  Galileo's  name; 
and  insensible  is  the  heart  that  does  not  do  homage 
to  the  illustrious  dead  —  a  teacher  of  truths  which 
can  never  die,  and  who  by  years  of  obloquy  and 
persecution,  by  imprisonment,  torture,  and  a  shat 
tered  frame,  paid  a  heavy  penalty  for  the  distinc 
tion  he  enjoyed  of  being  the  greatest  genius  of 
his  age. 

But,  however  we  may  be  disposed  to  compassion 
ate  the  sufferings  of  Galileo,  and  great  men  like  him, 
our  pity  for  the  hardships  and  trials  of  their  lots  in 
life  is  probably  in  most  instances  misplaced.  Out 
wardly  unfortunate  as  his  career  may  be,  the  man 
of  genius  bears  that  within  his  mind  which  probably 
far  more  than  compensates  him  for  the  hardships 
he  endures.  The  lonely  study,  wherein  the  mid 
night  lamp  burns  on  through  the  changing  year,  is 
the  scene,  perhaps,  at  times  of  joy  more  intense,  of 


308  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

triumph  more  perfect  than  any  which  the  world  — 
through  the  means  of  wealth,  rank,  power  and  dis 
tinction —  can  offer  to  the  common  herd  of  men. 
Glorious  must  be  the  moment  when  the  long  sought- 
for  truth  flashes  vividly  across  the  deeply  meditat 
ing  mind,  and  the  "  Eureka "  of  every  inquiring 
sage  on  whom  the  day-star  of  discovery  dawns,  must 
be  fraught  with  the  most  exquisite  happiness.  And 
though  such  moments  in  the  lifetime  of  even  the 
most  gifted  student  must  be  rare,  there  is  for  him 
a  constant  source  of  enjoyment  in  the  exulting  sense 
of  power  which  accompanies  the  exercise  of  the 
higher  faculties  of  his  mind.  Withal  then,  exposed 
as  the  great  astronomer  was  through  his  long  life, 
to  calumny  and  reproach — though  a  torture-forced 
recantation  of  the  truth  escaped  his  aged  lips — yet 
in  the  grand  triumphs  of  his  intellect,  in  the  proud 
consciousness  that  was  his,  of  having  given  forth 
truths  which  the  world  would  not  let  die,  the  life 
and  lot  of  Galileo  stand  forth  before  our  gaze  as 
deserving  not  of  pity,  but  of  envy. 

In  Santa  Croce,  also,  lie  the  mortal  remains  of 
Michael  Angelo.  His  tomb  is  one  of  the  first  that 
meets  the  eye  on  entering  the  church ;  and  it  is  .said 
that  before  his  death  he  chose  that  particular  spot 
of  sepulture  for  himself,  for  the  whimsical  reason 
that  when  the  doors  were  open  he  might,  even  in 
his  grave,  as  he  said,  be  able  to  see  the  Cathedral's 
towering  dome ;  of  which  his  admiration  was  so 


GALILEO   AND   MICHAEL  ANGELO.  309 

great  that  he  took  it  as  a  model  for  the  construction 
of  the  cupola  of  St.  Peter's.  A  fine  and  noble  na 
ture  was  that  of  Michael  Angelo.  Amidst  an  age 
of  general  moral  corruption  and  laxity  of  principle, 
his  life,  by  its  unsullied  purity  and  its  unblemished 
integrity,  stands  out  in  brilliant  contrast  with  the 
lives  of  most  of  his  cotemporaries,  and  challenges 
our  respect  and  admiration.  An  ardent  patriot,  he 
threw  aside  his  brush  and  chisel  to  join  the  ranks 
of  those  who  strove  to  save  the  independence  of  his 
native  soil ;  and  on  the  battlements  of  Florence  he 
proved  that  Italy's  greatest  architect,  painter  and 
sculptor,  had  qualities  that  might  well  confer  on  him 
the  title  of  being  one  of  her  greatest  heroes  also. 

The  memorials  of  Michael  Angelo  in  Florence 
are  numerous ;  for  in  its  churches,  its  palaces,  and 
its  public  squares,  we  are  brought  face  to  face  with 
the  mighty  creations  of  his  genius.  And  yet,  with 
all  their  excellencies  so  universally  acknowledged, 
and  with  all  the  homage  now  paid  to  that  mind 
which  gave  them  birth,  Michael  Angelo,  in  his  early 
days,  had  to  contend  against  that  detraction  and 
envy  which  denounced  his  noble  works  as  things  of 
little  worth.  An  amusing  incident  is  recorded,  in 
connection  with  this  subject,  of  the  means  he  took 
to  heap  confusion  on  his  adversaries,  by  proving 
that  their  disparaging  criticisms  were  founded  on 
prejudice,  and  not  on  truth  or  justice. 

In  the  seclusion  of  his  studio,  with  a  secrecy  he 


310  LIFE   IN  TUSCANY. 

took  care  no  one  should  penetrate,  Michael  Angelo 
sculptured  the  marble  group  of  a  Faun  and  Bacchus. 
The  work  being  completed,  he  broke  off'  the  right 
hand  a  little  above  the  wrist,  and  laying  it  carefully 
aside,  he  conveyed  the  mutilated  figure  to  a  hole 
previously  excavated  in  the  ground,  and  there  buried 
it.  After  the  lapse  of  some  little  time,  judging  that 
the  damp  earth  would  then  have  conferred  upon  his 
work  a  decidedly  venerable  appearance,  he  ordered 
workmen  to  make  certain  alterations  in  the  grounds ; 
which  would,  he  knew,  lead  necessarily  to  the  dis 
covery  of  the  buried  piece  of  statuary.  The  event 
answered  his  expectations :  the  mutilated  statue  was 
found ;  and  as  Michael  Angelo  took  care  that  this 
great  discovery  should  be  at  once  noised  abroad 
through  the  city,  his  bitterest  critics  rushed  to  the 
spot ;  and  on  the  earth  being  cleared  from  about 
the  figures  of  the  Faun  and  Bacchus,  they  speedily 
pronounced  the  group  to  be  an  antique  of  the  finest 
description;  warmly  congratulating  themselves  on 
the  fact  that  of  this  masterpiece  of  antiquity  only 
one  hand  was  missing.  Amongst  the  group  that 
surrounded  the  statue,  eagerly  engaged  in  enlarging 
on  the  beauties  of  the  work,  stood  Michael  Angelo, 
who  gave  but  a  very  faint  assent  to  the  general  en 
comiums  it  called  forth;  and  on  being  pointedly 
asked  his  opinion  on  the  subject,  he  replied,  in  a 
careless,  disparaging  way,  it  was  a  pretty  thing 
enough.  "  Oh,  doubtless  you  can  make  as  good  a 


GALILEO    AND   MICHAEL   ANGELO.  311 

statue  yourself,"  was  the  reply,  uttered  in  a  satirical 
tone :  and  Michael  Angelo,  continuing  the  conver 
sation  in  a  strain  which  led  on  his  adversaries  to  say 
all  ^hat  he  could  wish,  suddenly  startled  them  by 
the  question — "  What  will  you  say  if  I  made  this?" 
To  the  idea  thus  suggested,  smiles  of  incredulity 
and  derisive  laughter  were  the  response ;  in  the 
midst  of  which,  begging  their  patience  for  a  little 
while,  Michael  Angelo  went  to  his  house,  and  speed 
ily  brought  back  with  him,  as  evidence  of  the  truth 
of  his  words,  the  hand  which  he  had  broken  off; 
and  it  was  found,  to  the  confusion  and  discomfiture 
of  his  antagonists,  to  correspond  exactly  with  the 
mutilated  arm  of  the  newly-discovered  Bacchus. 

This  memorial  of  the  triumph  of  Michael  Angelo 
occupies  a  conspicuous  position  in  the  Gallery  of  the 
Uffizi  at  Florence  ;  the  seam  which  marks  the  place 
where  the  arm  was  fractured  being  very  distinctly 
visible. 

Michael  Angelo  himself  was  far  from  being  nig 
gardly  of  praise  of  the  artistic  productions  of  his 
immediate  predecessors  or  cotemporaries.  "  Meglio 
di  te  non  posso"  (better  than  thee  I  cannot  make,) 
he  exclaimed,  in  reference  to  the  great  cathedral 
dome  of  Brunelleschi  in  Florence.  In  a  similar 
spirit  he  stopped  before  the  statue  of  St.  Mark  by 
Donato,  and  exclaimed,  in  allusion  to  its  life-like 
expression,  "Mark,  why  don't  you  speak  to  me?" 
Of  the  bronze  gates,  the  masterpiece  of  Ghiberti,  he 


312  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

said — "  They  are  so  beautiful,  that  they  are  worthy 
of  being  the  gates  of  Paradise."  On  seeing  the 
medals  of  Csesari,  he  declared,  "Art  has  reached 
its  last  hour,  for  beyond  this  it  cannot  go ; "  and  on 
looking  at  Bigarini's  fine  statues  in  terracotta,  he 
exclaimed,  "  Woe  to  the  antique  statues,  if  these 
should  become  marble  ! " 

In  the  same  house  where  Michael  Angelo  lived  in 
Florence,  some  descendants  of  his  family  still  live 
at  the  present  day ;  much  of  the  furniture  remains 
in  its  original  position,  unchanged,  and  many  per 
sonal  relics  of  the  great  sculptor  and  painter  are 
there  to  be  found.  His  sword,  his  crutch-handled 
walking-sticks,  his  slippers,  and  the  table  at  which 
he  used  to  write,  challenge  the  stranger's  notice ; 
whilst  some  of  his  vigorous  sketches  adorn  the  walls 
of  the  various  apartments,  which  have  been  fitted 
up  in  a  style  to  do  honor  to  his  memory.  Right  is 
it,  indeed,  that  in  Florence,  his  native  town,  and  for 
whose  independence  he  vainly  fought,  every  me 
mento  of  him  should  be  preserved  and  venerated. 

"  I  commend  my  soul  to  God,  my  body  to  the 
earth,  and  my  property  to  my  nearest  of  kin,"  were 
the  terms  of  his  last  will  and  testament,  dictated  by 
him  on  his  death-bed.  He  breathed  his  last  in  Rome, 
on  February  17th,  1563,  within  a  fortnight  of  enter 
ing  on  his  ninetieth  year ;  and  his  remains  were,  at 
his  express  desire,  conveyed  to  Florence,  where  they 
were  buried,  with  every  circumstance  of  pomp  and 
solemnity,  in  the  church  of  Santa  Croce. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   LATE   KEVOLUTION. 

ILTHOUGH  the  events  which  took 
place  in  Paris  on  the  24th  of  Febru 
ary,  1848,  exercised  an  immense  in 
fluence  on  Italy  as  well  as  on  other 
European  States,  the  revolutionary  era  com 
menced  in  the  Peninsula  considerably  before 
that  time.  At  Rome,  in  the  year  1846,  when 
Pius  the  Ninth  was  at  the  height  of  his  pop 
ularity,  amidst  the  shouts  which  resounded  of  "Vi 
va  Pio  IX,"  there  was  voices  heard  to  say,  "  Abbasso 
il  Pontefice !  "  *  Under  the  triumphal  arches  that 
were  raised  to  the  reforming  Pope,  the  progress  of 
the  carriages  belonging  to  prelates  forming  part  of 
his  cortege,  was  impeded,  or  stopped ;  and  return 
ing  from  St.  Peter's,  he  was  often  followed  by  bands 
of  students  from  the  university,  demanding,  with 
loud  voices,  their  political  rights. 


*  "  Down  with  the  Pontiff1." 


314  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

At  this  period,  Florence  began  to  show  symptoms 
of  the  same  spirit  of  disquiet  that  prevailed  at  Rome. 
Public  demonstrations  were  made  which  had  for 
their  avowed  object  the  acquisition  of  a  civic  guard 
and  the  liberty  of  the  press.  In  the  middle  of  Janu 
ary  the  people  of  Leghorn,  with  Guerrazzi  for  their 
leader,  rose  in  arms.  The  rebellion  was  repressed  ; 
and  in  the  fortress  of  Porto  Ferrajo  the  imprisoned 
chief  had  ample  leisure  for  meditation  over  his  de 
feated  plans. 

In  1847  fresh  disturbances  occurred.  The  whole 
of  Italy  was  agitated  in  every  part ;  throughout  the 
Peninsula  there  were  symptoms  that  a  storm  of  no 
ordinary  violence  was  about  to  break  forth.  Day 
by  day  the  clouds  grew  darker  overhead ;  and  pop 
ular  tumults,  like  premonitory  gusts,  gave  evidence 
that  a  great  conflict  between  the  opposing  forces  of 
power  and  numbers  was  nigh  at  hand.  Bologna 
and  Ferrara  demanded  and  obtained  a  civic  guard. 
The  same  demand  was  echoed  at  Rome  with  clam 
orous  cries ;  and  by  a  papal  decree  issued  on  the  5th 
of  July,  the  privilege  of  forming  a  national  guard 
was  conferred  not  only  on  Rome,  but  on  every  city 
in  the  States  of  the  Church.  Tumults  commenced 
at  Naples ;  Sicily  and  Calabria  were  stirred  with 
the  first  throes  of  popular  discontent;  and  Genoa 
also.  From  north  to  south,  Italy  was  a  smouldering 
volcano. 

The  eventful  year  of  1848  was  ushered  in  by  a 


THE   LATE   REVOLUTION.  315 

revolution  at  Palermo.  Sicily  declared  itself  inde 
pendent  ;  and  Ferdinand  II  found  the  fairest  portion 
of  his  dominions  wrenched  away  violently  from  his 
grasp.  Naples  rose  up  in  arms  to  demand  a  consti 
tution,  which  was  granted  through  the  influence  of 
fear.  The  commencement  of  February  was  signal 
ized  by  commotions  at  Turin;  and,  following  the 
prevailing  example,  Tuscany  extorted  from  its  intim 
idated  ruler,  on  the  18th  of  February,  the  concession 
of  political  rights. 

The  revolution  of  the  24th  of  February,  in  Paris, 
acted  on  the  impulsive  Italians  as  a  strong  blast  on 
a  glowing  flame.  Milan,  after  five  days'  desperate 
fighting,  threw  off  the  Austrian  yoke.  Charles  II, 
Duke  of  Lucca,  found  himself  constrained  to  fly 
from  his  dominions  to  save  his  life.  Venice,  on  the 
22d  of  March,  declared  itself  a  republic ;  and  in  a 
few  months  afterwards,  in  the  ancient  capital  of  the 
Csesars,  amidst  the  joyous  shouts  of  thousands,  a 
similar  form  of  government  was  proclaimed. 

Yielding  to  the  spirit  of  the  times,  the  Grand 
Duke  of  Tuscany  ceded  to  his  subjects  a  constitu 
tion,  which  was,  for  the  most  part,  founded  on  the 
model  of  that  of  France.  This  concession  was  fol 
lowed  by  an  amnesty,  in  right  of  which  Guerrazzi 
issued  forth  from  the  fortress  of  Porto  Ferrajo  to 
play  his  part  in  the  great  political  drama ;  in  the 
first  act  of  which  he  had  lost  his  liberty  and  periled 
his  life.  Of  unbounded  ambition,  of  distinguished 


316  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

talents,  orator  and  author,  he  was  a  man  certain  to 
occupy  the  foremost  place  upon  the  public  stage,  in 
troubled  times.  His  release  was  hailed  with  accla 
mation,  and  his  return  to  Florence  was  greeted  as  a 
triumph  to  the  liberal  cause.  The  current  of  popu 
lar  enthusiasm  in  his  favor  ran  high  and  strong. 
Three  separate  constituencies  chose  him  for  their 
representative,  when,  under  the  new  constitution, 
the  election  for  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  began. 
Amongst  his  colleagues,  there  was  no  one  but  Mon- 
tauelli  who  seemed  in  a  position  to  dispute  with  him 
the  post  of  chief. 

In  the  month  of  September,  the  people  of  Leghorn 
once  more  rose  up  in  arms ;  this  time  with  the  view 
of  casting  off  the  supremacy  of  Tuscany,  and  of 
raising  their  town  to  the  dignity  of  an  independent 
State.  A  serious  conflict  seemed  at  hand  ;  for,  with 
the  view  of  reducing  his  rebellious  subjects  to  sub 
mission,  the  Grand  Duke  repaired  to  the  camp  of 
Pisa,  where  was  assembled  a  numerous  portion  of 
the  national  guard.  But  after  some  days  of  warlike 
preparation  on  either  side,  the  opposing  parties 
showed  a  disposition  to  avert  the  effusion  of  blood 
by  coming  to  terms ;  the  insurgents  abating  their 
high  pretensions,  demanded  that  Montanelli  should 
be  appointed  to  the  post  of  Governor  of  Leghorn. 
This  demand  was  granted  by  the  Grand  Duke,  on 
the  faith  (it  is  alleged)  of  Montanelli's  plighted  word 
to  do  his  utmost  to  restore  order  and  peace.  If  such 


THE   LATE   REVOLUTION.  317 

a  pledge  was  given,  it  was  badly  kept  by  Monta- 
nelli ;  for  his  words  and  acts  were  ill-calculated  to 
calm  down  the  excitement  of  the  popular  mind. 
From  his  balcony  in  the  public  square  of  Leghorn, 
he  harangued  the  people  in  favor  of  an  Italian  con 
stitution,  the  plan  of  which  he  had  drawn  up.  Lit 
tle  as  it  may  be  supposed  the  Grand  Duke  approved 
of  the  newly  elected  Governor's  proceedings,  he  was 
not,  or  did  not  feel  himself  in  a  position  to  cancel 
the  appointment  made.  Destitute  of  that  firmness 
of  character  which  is  so  essential  for  a  ruler  to  pos 
sess  in  critical  times,  his  deficiency  in  this  particular 
was  not  supplied  by  the  advisers  whom  he  called  to 
his  side.  Frightened  at  the  aspect  of  affairs,  Gino 
Capponi,  the  president  of  the  Tuscan  Cabinet,  re 
signed  ;  and  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  form  another 
Ministry,  under  another  head,  was  followed  by  the 
hazardous  step  of  devolving  this  task  on  the  demo 
cratic  Governor  of  Leghorn.  Accepting  with  alac 
rity  the  offered  post,  Montanelli  called  on  Guerrazzi 
to  aid  him  in  his  work.  The  Chamber  of  Deputies, 
which  had  given  a  strong  support  to  the  late  Minis 
try,  was  dissolved;  and  in  all  the  posts  vacated 
by  the  Duke's  adherents,  supporters  of  the  revolu 
tionary  cause  were  placed.  The  Ducal  rule  was  vir 
tually  at  an  end.  Impelled  by  fear,  and  coerced  by 
pressure  from  without,  Leopold  allowed  the  reins  of 
government  to  slip  from  his  trembling  hands ;  and 
it  was  easy  to  perceive  that  it  required  but  a  slight 


318  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

collision  to  hurl  him  from  the  seat  he  so  insecurely 
maintained. 

On  the  9th  January,  1849,  the  Representative 
Chambers  of  Tuscany  were  opened  in  person  by 
the  Grand  Duke.  The  session  commenced  with 
clamor  and  dissension ;  the  echo  as  it  were,  of  the 
voices  that  prevailed  outside.  The  discussion  that 
ensued  on  the  draft  of  the  "  Italian  Constitution," 
submitted  to  the  Chambers  for  approval  by  Monta- 
nelli,  grew  violent  in  the  extreme.  A  strong  party 
arrayed  itself  in  opposition  to  the  creation  of  the 
federal  power  which  Montanelli  proposed  ;  but  a 
powerful  party  out  of  doors  gave  a  clamorous  sup 
port  to  the  Minister's  plan.  The  populace  arid  the 
journals  were  on  his  side  ;  and,  yielding  to  the  dem 
ocratic  voice,  the  Italian  Constitution  received  the 
assent  of  the  Legislative  Assembly. 

This  triumph,  however,  was  far  from  allaying  the 
fevered  spirit  of  excitement  which  prevailed  out  of 
doors.  Day  by  day,  disorder  and  disturbances  in 
creased  in  Florence.  "With  difficulty  could  Guer- 
razzi  restrain  within  bounds  the  revolutionary  club 
of  which  he  was  the  chief.  Drunk  with  the  excite 
ment  which  a  startling  series  of  events  and  a  new 
born  consciousness  of  power  are  so  likely  to  produce 
in  minds  unused  to  reason  and  reflect,  new  griev 
ances,  new  demands,  speedily  took  the  place  of 
those  to  which  concession  had  put  an  end  yesterday. 
The  revolution,  not  only  in  Tuscany  but  in  all  Italy, 


THE   LATE    REVOLUTION.  319 

came  to  be  looked  upon  in  the  light  of  a  drama 
enacted  upon  the  stage :  and  a  paucity  of  events,  or 
a  slight  delay  between  the  acts,  gave  birth  to  cries 
of  impatience  and  discontent.  "Onward — onward !" 
was  the  cry ;  and  those  who,  from  their  talents  or 
position,  might  have  possessed  the  power  to  check 
the  headlong  progress  of  democratic  violence  and 
unrest,  allowed  themselves  to  be  swept  onward  with 
the  stream. 

Renewed  disturbances  took  place  at  Leghorn; 
the  populace  of  that  town  clamorously  demanding 
that  a  Republic  should  be  at  once  proclaimed.  The 
Governor,  appointed  by  Montanelli,  openly  declared 
his  sympathy  with  the  popular  views.  On  the  last 
day  of  January  there  ran  a  rumor  through  the 
streets  of  Florence,  that  the  Leghornese  were  on  the 
eve  of  marching  on  the  Tuscan  capital,  in  arms. 
Penetrating  to  the  recesses  of  the  Pitti  Palace,  that 
rumor,  fraught  as  it  was  with  scenes  of  approaching 
violence  and  bloodshed,  determined  the  Duke  to 
withdraw  himself  from  the  peril  he  was  powerless 
to  avert.  His  family  had  some  months  previously 
retired  to  Sienna ;  and  thither  now,  with  haste  and 
secrecy,  Leopold  repaired. 

The  fugitive  monarch  was  welcomed  with  enthu 
siasm  by  the  Siennese.  In  place  of  the  tricolored 
insignia  of  revolution,  the  white  and  red  flag  of 
Tuscany  was  publicly  displayed;  cheers  for  the 
Grand  Duke  resounded  through  the  streets,  and 


320  LIFE  IN   TUSCANY. 

clamorous  demonstrations  of  attachment,  in  words 
and  acts,  were  unmingled  by  revolutionary  cries. 

The  republicans  of  Florence,  ill-satisfied  with  this 
state  of  things,  called  upon  Leopold  to  return  ;  for 
tifying  their  demand  with  the  intimation  that,  in 
case  of  his  refusal  to  comply  with  the  public  wish, 
his  dethronement  would  be  proclaimed.  Hastening 
to  Sienna,  Montanelli  sought  an  audience  of  the 
Grand  Duke,  to  urge  a  compliance  with  the  popular 
desire.  But  Montanelli's  mission  proved  fruitless  ; 
for  Leopold,  terrified  by  the  ever-darkening  aspect 
of  affairs,  fled  with  his  family  to  the  seaport  town 
of  San  Stefano,  on  the  morning  of  the  7th  of  Feb 
ruary.  Two  official  letters  announced  to  Monta 
nelli  this  proceeding  of  the  Duke,  and  the  Minister 
immediately  returning  to  Florence,  communicated 
to  his  colleagues  the  event  that  had  occurred. 

Florence  was  instantly  in  commotion  on  the  re 
ceipt  of  the  news.  The  official  letters  of  the  Prince 
were  sent  to  all  the  civil  and  military  authorities  of 
the  State  ;  and  by  Guerrazzi's  orders  the  tocsin  of 
alarm  was  sounded,  the  garrison  was  called  to  arms, 
and  the  Chambers  were  convoked.  The  storm,  that 
had  been  so  long  looming  in  the  distance,  darkening 
the  horizon,  had  burst  over  Tuscany  at  last. 

Terror,  consternation  and  confusion  prevailed  at 
Florence.  No  sooner  had  the  deputies  assembled  to 
deliberate  on  the  state  of  affairs,  than  their  proceed 
ings  were  interrupted  by  the  unlicensed  intrusion 


THE   LATE   REVOLUTION.  321 

into  the  Chambers  of  a  deputation  from  one  of  the 
revolutionary  societies  of  the  town.  The  leader  of 
this  band,  a  man  of  the  name  of  Mccolini,  imme 
diately  commenced  a  harangue — "  Citizens,  legis 
lators  !"  he  exclaimed,  "the  people  of  Florence " 

"  Silence !"  interrupted  the  President  of  the 
Chambers  ;  u  it  is  not  for  you  to  speak  within 
these  walls.  If  you  have  a  petition,  it  will  be  re 
ceived  by  the  Secretary  of  the  Assembly,  according 
to  proper  form." 

"  I  bear  not  a  petition,  but  an  order  from  the  peo 
ple  !"  said  Niccolini ;  who  then  proceeded  to  state 
that  nothing  else  but  a  Provisional  Government, 
composed  of  Guerrazzi,  Montanelli,  and  Mazzoni, 
would  satisfy  the  inhabitants  of  the  town. 

The  tumult  increased ;  the  President  put  on  his 
hat  and  declared  the  sitting  at  an  end.  A  consid 
erable  number  of  deputies  left  the  hall;  at  seeing 
which,  a  deputy  of  the  name  of  Socci,  rising  up  and 
striking  his  hand  violently  on  the  desk,  called  out 
after  his  departing  comrades — "  Stay  !  let  us  die 
upon  our  chairs." 

The  President  Zannetti  gave  the  signal  for  the 
sitting  to  be  resumed,  and  then  followed  a  debate  of 
the  most  tumultuous  kind.  Some  deputies  tried  to 
still  the  clamor  that  prevailed  ;  but  amidst  the  cries 
that  penetrated  to  the  chamber  from  without — cries 
of  "  Viva  il  Governo  Provvisoria ;  viva  Montanelli, 
Guerrazzi,  e  Mazzoni!"  —  cries  which  stimulated 
21 


322  LIFE   IN    TUSCANY. 

their  partizans  in  the  Assembly  to  exhort  compli 
ance  with  the  popular  demand — every  expostulation, 
every  appeal  to  reason  was  in  vain. 

"Let  us  respect  the  voice  of  the  people,"  said  the 
deputy  Trinci ;  "  as  for  me,  I  have  full  confidence 
in  the  men  who  would  form  the  government  pro 
posed." 

"With  wTords  such  as  these  resounding  in  tones  of 
menace  from  different  portions  of  the  hall,  the  ad 
herents  of  the  fugitive  prince  finally  gave  way  to 
the  popular  demand  ;  and  by  a  vote  of  the  Cham 
ber,  a  Provisional  Government,  composed  of  Guer- 
razzi,  Montanelli,  and  Mazzoni,  was  installed. 

Passing  from  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  the  trium 
virate  presented  themselves  before  the  Senate,  to 
have  the  election  of  the  Lower  House  confirmed  • 
their  appearance  was  received  in  silence ;  indicating 
plainly  consternation,  disapprobation,  and  distrust : 
the  Duke  of  Casigliani  alone  gave  utterance  to  the 
sentiments  generally  felt  by  the  senators. 

"  This  new  power,"  he  said,  "  cannot  be  ratified 
by  us,  since  it  does  not  profess  to  govern  in  the  name 
of  the  Prince." 

"  Elected  by  the  people,  I  shall  govern  in .  the 
name  of  the  people,"  returned  Guerrazzi ;  and  how 
ever  distasteful  this  reply  might  be  to  the  Assembly, 
fear  was  a  too  predominant  sensation  amongst  their 
members  to  admit  of  their  putting  themselves  in 


THE   LATE   REVOLUTION.  323 

opposition  to  the  popular  will.  The  vote  of  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies  was  confirmed. 

Tumultuous  popular  demonstrations  of  joy  in 
Florence  accompanied  the  instalment  of  the  Provis 
ional  Government.  Under  the  leadership  of  the 
same  Mccolini  who  had  invaded  the  precincts  of  the 
Representative  Chamber,  a  crowd  of  people  traversed 
the  city,  and  in  every  public  square  proclaimed  the 
deposition  of  the  Grand  Duke.  Trees  of  liberty 
were  planted  in  every  street,  in  every  lane,  in  the 
vicinity  of  every  church,  amidst  cries  of  joy  and  en 
thusiastic  Evvims,  mingled  with  the  martial  strains 
of  the  revolutionary  hymn  of  France.  The  statues 
of  Leopold  were  thrown  down,  and  his  heraldic  in 
signia  injured  or  defaced. 

The  first  act  of  the  Provisional  Government  was 
to  dissolve  the  Chambers,  and  to  call  a  new  Parlia 
ment  ;  but  before  the  latter  had  entered  upon  its 
duties,  speedily  as  the  elections  took  place,  the  tide 
of  popular  feeling  had  begun  to  turn  in  favor  of  the 
old  form  of  government,  which  had  been  so  roughly 
overthrown.  In  truth,  it  was  no  wonder  it  should 
be  so  ;  for,  from  the  day  that  the  Provisional  Gov 
ernment  was  installed,  riots,  dissensions,  and  com 
motions  prevailed  throughout  the  most  part  of 
Tuscany.  Irritated  with  the  aspect  of  affairs,  the 
Government  had  recourse  to  stringent  measures  to 
restore  order  and  calm.  Arrests  were  made  upon 
suspicion  ;  and  the  prisons  were  filled  with  persons 


324  LIFE  IN   TUSCANY. 

charged  with  political  crimes.  Too  impatient  to 
wait  for  the  opening  of  the  new  Parliament,  which 
was  to  decide  upon  the  form  of  government  Tuscany 
should  have,  the  citizens  of  Leghorn,  on  the  17th  of 
February,  with  the  concurrence  of  their  Governor, 
proclaimed  the  Republic  with  sound  of  trumpet 
through  the  streets  of  their  town. 

The  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  in  his  retreat  at 
San  Stefano,  had  received  tidings  of  the  movement 
in  Leghorn ;  and  the  report  of  cannon  at  Orbetello, 
fired  in  honor  of  the  republican  victory,  reached  his 
ears.  The  sound  was  one  that  brought  terror  and 
perplexity  to  him ;  for  he  had  been  informed  that 
Montanelli  had  given  orders  to  the  Tuscan  troops  to 
march  on  San  Stefano  without  delay,  and  obtain 
possession  of  his  person  by  every  practicable  means. 
It  was,  therefore,  absolutely  necessary  for  his  safety 
that  he  should  leave  his  present  abode ;  but  with 
that  indecision  which  is  the  characteristic  of  weak 
minds,  Leopold  could  not  determine  in  what  direc 
tion  he  should  bend  his  steps.  Unable  to  act  in  this 
exigency  for  himself — hesitating  to  accept  the  offer 
that  was  made  him  of  an  asylum  in  Piedmont — he 
resolved  to  seek  the  counsel  of  the  Pope.  Commu 
nication  with  the  Pope,  at  that  time  a  refugee  at 
Gaeta,  was  difficult;  but  through  the  gallantry  of  a 
young  officer,  who  undertook  a  voyage  of  a  hundred 
and  eighty  miles  in  a  small  fishing-boat,  the  difficulty 
was  surmounted  and  in  conformity  with  the  advice 


THE   LATE   REVOLUTION.  325 

received,  Leopold  embarked  for  Gaeta,  to  share  with 
Pius  the  protection  of  the  Neapolitan  King. 

To  the  courage  and  resolution  which  the  Grand 
Duchess  displayed,  she  was  alone  indebted  for  the 
means  of  joining  her  husband  in  his  flight.  Being 
apprised  by  Leopold  of  his  intention  to  embark  for 
Gaeta,  she  set  off  instantly  for  San  Stefano,  accom 
panied  by  her  children,  two  ladies  of  honor,  and  two 
officers  belonging  to  her  suit.  "Without  troops, 
without  guards,  without  any  means  of  resisting  pop 
ular  violence,  the  attitude  assumed  by  the  populace 
of  Orbetello,  a  city  through  which  she  had  to  pass, 
was  one  calculated  to  strike  her  with  alarm. 
Scarcely  had  her  carriage  entered  the  town,  when 
it  was  surrounded  by  a  crowd  that  effectually 
blocked  up  the  way ;  while  from  every  side  resound 
ed  cries  that  plainly  indicated  to  the  Princess  the 
intention  of  the  people  to  prevent  her  from  journey 
ing  on.  To  move  them  from  their  purpose,  she  tried 
remonstrances  and  entreaties ;  but  in  vain.  Sud 
denly,  however,  changing  her  bearing,  at  the  mo 
ment  when  the  cries  around  her  had  reached  their 
highest  pitch,  she  started  to  her  feet,  and  with  a 
queenlike  gesture,  look,  and  tone  of  voice,  cried 
out — "  Back  !  I  will  pass  on.  Now,  I  no  longer  en 
treat — I  command."  Surprised,  confused  and  over 
awed — acted  on  by  the  magnetic  influence  of  a  res 
olute  will — the  crowd  with  one  accord  drew  back, 


326  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

and  the  Grand  Duchess  proceeded  triumphantly  on 
her  way. 

The  new  Parliament,  convoked  hy  universal  suf 
frage,  opened  its  deliberations  at  the  end  of  March. 
The  first  act  of  this  body  was  to  nominate  Guerrazzi 
head  of  the  executive  power,  and  to  invest  him  with 
almost  dictatorial  sway.  As  between  him  and  Mon- 
tanelli,  one  of  his  late  colleagues  in  office,  much  dis 
sension  and  altercation  had  prevailed,  Guerrazzi 
profited  by  his  new  dignity  to  free  himself  from  the 
presence  of  a  formidable  rival,  by  sending  Monta- 
nelli  on  an  embassy  to  Paris.  But  though  supreme 
in  Tuscany,  and  placed  in  a  position  grateful  to  an 
ambitious  spirit  like  his,  Guerrazzi  was  too  clear 
sighted  not  to  feel  that  his  reign  could  not  last 
long.  Signs  of  a  reactionary  movement  grew  more 
apparent  every  day.  The  Florentine  populace,  late 
ly  such  ardent  republicans,  grew  so  lukewarm  in 
the  cause,  that  Guerrazzi  considered  it  necessary  to 
draft  to  Florence  a  band  of  staunch  adherents  from 
the  democratic  town  of  Leghorn  to  execute  his  com 
mands.  This  measure,  however,  was  productive  of 
results  little  in  conformity  with  the  projector's  views. 
Instead  of  strengthening  his  hands,  it  weakened 
them  in  an  eminent  degree.  His  popularity  with 
the  Florentines,  already  on  the  wane,  dwindled 
away  rapidly  day  by  day,  through  the  malpractices 
of  the  Leghornese.  Composed  of  the  lowest  of  the 
people,  the  dregs  of  a  seaport  town,  excited  by  evil 


THE  LATE  REVOLUTION.  327 

passions,  the  wish  to  tyrannize,  and  a  thirst  for  gain, 
this  band  soon  drew  upon  itself  the  hatred  of  every 
class  within  the  town.  Threats  of  vengeance  for 
insults  offered,  and  injuries  inflicted,  were  daily 
uttered  by  the  Florentines.  Scowling  looks  and 
contracted  brows  awaited  the  band  of  mercenaries 
on  every  hand  ;  in  the  public-houses  where  they  re 
fused  to  pay,  in  the  streets,  where  their  rude,  inso 
lent  bearing  was  conspicuously  displayed.  So  evi 
dent  was  the  danger  of  a  collision  between  the 
hostile  parties,  that  the  municipal  authorities  of 
Florence  solicited  Guerrazzi  to  withdraw  the  band 
of  strangers  from  the  city.  Assenting  to  this  request, 
Guerrazzi  ordered  his  unpopular  adherents  to  de 
part;  and,  in  obedience  to  this  command,  the  Leg- 
hornese,  on  the  llth  of  April,  marched  in  a  body 
towards  the  station  of  the  railway  that  led  to  their 
native  town. 

But  even  in  the  moment  when  the  danger  of  a 
conflict  seemed  to  be  at  an  end,  the  long-brooding 
mischief  occurred.  To  which  of  the  opposing  par 
ties  was  attributable  the  blame  of  precipitating  the 
fray  is  not  known.  Both,  probably,  in  this  respect, 
were  equally  in  fault — both,  probably,  burned  with 
the  same  desire  to  come  to  blowrs ;  the  Leghornese, 
exasperated  by  the  triumphant  looks,  words,  and 
gestures  of  those  around  —  the  Florentines,  by  the 
desire  to  seize  on  the  last  opportunity  that  remained 
to  them  to  chastise  the  .offending  band.  Where  such 


328  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

feelings  exist,  where  such,  inflammable  materials 
prevail,  the  smallest  spark  is  sufficient  to  kindle  a 
devouring  flame.  In  the  Piazza  of  Santa  Maria 
Novello,  the  combat  between  the  Leghornese  and 
Florentines  began.  A  general  consternation  pre 
vailed,  for  a  horrible  massacre  seemed  likely  to 
ensue.  The  National  Guard  were  called  to  arms, 
and  repairing  to  the  scene  of  battle,  they  put  an 
end  to  the  conflict  before  long :  overpowered  by 
numbers,  the  defeated  Leghornese  took  to  flight. 

This  victory  exercised  an  important  influence  in 
Florence  over  the  course  of  events.  Several  mem 
bers  of  the  municipal  council,  emboldened  by  the 
defeat  of  the  Leghornese,  decided  at  once  to  put 
themselves  at  the  head  of  the  reactionary  movement 
that  had  begun,  and  which  showed  itself  unmistak 
ably  in  the  acts  of  the  populace  of  the  town.  Loud 
as  had  been  the  cries  of  "Viva  la  Hepublica!" 
amongst  which  the  emblems  of  democratic  power 
had  been  reared  on  high,  were  now  the  shouts  of 
"Viva  Leopoldo  Secondo!"  amongst  which  those  ob 
noxious  symbols  were  overthrown.  A  more  striking 
instance  of  the  fickleness  of  popular  feeling  can 
scarcely  be  afforded  in  the  records  of  any  nation 
than  that  which  at  this  period  took  place  in  the 
Tuscan  capital.  In  two  months'  time,  an  unreason 
ing  enthusiasm  for  republican  sway  had  passed  into 
an  equally  unreasoning  enthusiasm  for  despotic 
rule.  Victims  of  their  own.  extravagant  expecta- 


THE    LATE    REVOLUTION.  329 

tions,  which  had  made  liberty  appear  to  them  a 
synonym  for  plenty,  cheapness,  idleness,  ease,  they 
now  trampled  under  foot  the  tricolored  insignia  of 
the  goddess  at  whose  shrine  they  had  so  lately  bow 
ed — victims,  too,  of  the  fatal  error  which  had  raised 
to  power  a  man  unfit  to  hold  the  helm  of  a  State  in 
troubled  times,  they  now  revenged  themselves  for 
their  mistake,  by  heaping  on  their  late  worshiped 
chief  epithets  of  hate  and  scorn.  Voices  which  had 
grown  hoarse  a  short  time  before,  in  leading  the 
chants  in  Guerrazzi's  praise,  were  now  the  loudest 
to  demand  his  expulsion  from  the  seat  he  held. 
"Abbasso  Guerrazzi !  "  was  the  cry  that,  caught  up 
by  hundreds  of  voices,  now  resounded  through  the 
same  squares  and  streets  which  had  but  a  few  weeks 
previously  re-echoed  with  his  praise. 

Those  members  of  the  upper  classes  who  had  only 
given  a  reluctant  or  forced  consent  to  the  deposition 
of  the  Grand  Duke,  were  not  slow  in  availing  them 
selves  of  the  reaction  of  public  opinion  in  his  favor 
to  restore  him  to  his  throne.  In  the  name  of  Leo 
pold,  one  of  the  members  of  the  municipal  council 
assumed  the  reigns  of  government ;  and  several  in 
fluential  persons,  amongst  others  the  commander  of 
the  National  Guard,  ranged  themselves  on  his  side. 

However  disheartened  Guerrazzi  might  be  at  the 
aspect  of  affairs,  he  met  the  danger  with  an  un 
daunted  mien.  Summoning  to  his  side  three  hun 
dred  of  the  National  Gnards  as  a  protection  against 


330  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

popular  violence,  he  at  the  same  time  convoked  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies.  Sixteen  members  alone,  how 
ever,  of  the  legislative  body  responded  to  the  appeal. 
From  these  few  still  faithful  adherents,  Guerrazzi 
demanded  the  impeachment  of  the  municipal  coun 
cil,  as  a  body  guilty  of  treasonable  acts  and  designs. 
The  discussion  on  this  momentous  question  had 
scarcely  commenced,  when  the  deputies  were  startled 
by  the  sudden  appearance  before  them  of  one  of 
that  very  body  whose  acts  had  been  arraigned. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  intruder,  "you  have  taken 
the  resolution  to  impeach  us  —  You!"  he  added,  in 
a  tone  of  scorn.  "Nevertheless,  I  come  here  in  the 
name  of  the  municipality,  to  assure  you  that  your 
cause  is  hopeless,  and  that  unless  you  change  your 
views  and  conduct  speedily,  we  will  not  answer  for 
your  lives." 

At  these  words,  some  of  the  deputies  made  a 
movement  to  reply,  but  before  they  could  execute 
their  intention,  the  bold  speaker  had  resumed  — 

"  Open  the  windows  ! "  he  said ;  "  look  at  that 
throng  of  citizens ;  listen  to  their  cries.  They  are 
demanding  their  sovereign ;  they  are  calling  down 
curses  on  your  heads ! " 

Looks  of  fear  and  disquietude  were  visible  in  the 
faces  of  many  of  the  deputies  at  these  words,  and 
four  of  their  number,  rising  from  their  seats,  declar 
ed  their  adhesion  to  the  monarchical  cause,  and 
offered  the  aid  of  their  services  to  the  municipality 


THE    LATE   REVOLUTION.  331 

to  effect  the  restoration  of  Leopold.  Disheartened 
by  defection,  Guerrazzi,  abating  his  pretensions, 
sought  now  to  effect  a  compromise  with  the  mo 
narchical  party.  Demanding  and  obtaining  an 
interview  with  the  municipality,  he  offered,  on  cer 
tain  terms,  the  aid  of  himself  and  his  adherents  to 
forward  the  object  proposed.  Much  time  was  spent 
in  negotiations  on  this  head,  for  the  deliberations  of 
the  assembly  were  influenced  in  a  great  degree  by 
the  aspect  of  affairs  outside.  Both  parties,  republi 
can  and  monarchical,  awaited  with  anxiety  a  more 
undoubted,  a  more  universal  manifestation  of  the 
public  will  than  had  yet  occurred ;  so  a  wordy  de 
bate  dragged  on  till  evening,  when  the  partizans  of 
the  Grand  Duke,  forming  the  majority  of  the  as 
sembly,  assured  by  intelligence  received  that  theirs 
was  certainly  the  victorious  side,  refused  point-blank 
the  compromise  proposed. 

With  the  standard  bearing  the  ducal  arms,  and  in 
solemn  state,  the  members  of  the  municipal  council 
repaired  to  the  Palazzo  Yecchio,  from  the  ancient 
walls  of  which  had  issued  Guerrazzi's  mandates 
during  his  ephemeral  reign.  Amidst  shouts  a  thou 
sand  times  repeated  of  "Viva  Leopoldo  Secondo!" 
"Abbasso  Guerrazzi ! "  the  municipal  authorities 
took  possession,  in  their  sovereign's  name,  of  this 
seat  of  republican  rule.  At  the  foot  of  the  same 
dark  walls  which  have  witnessed  so  many  mutations 
of  popular  feeling  in  their  day,  where  only  two 


332  LIFE  IN  TUSCANY. 

months  before  the  ducal  arms  had  been  trampled  in 
the  dust,  a  cry  for  a  bust  of  the  absent  Prince  clam 
orously  arose ;  and  when,  in  compliance  with  this 
demand,  an  effigy  of  the  Duke  was  shown,  the  air 
was  rent  with  enthusiastic  cheers. 

Guerrazzi,  deserted  by  his  former  zealous  adhe 
rents,  and  rudely  dispossessed  of  the  authority  which, 
with  popular  sanction  and  approval,  he  had  so  re 
cently  assumed,  though  conscious  that  his  cause  was 
hopeless  and  his  power  at  an  end,  refused  to  take 
any  measure  to  assure  his  safety  by  flight,  and  calm 
ly  surrendered  himself  up  to  the  officers  of  justice, 
who  came  to  execute  the  decree  of  arrest  issued  by 
the  new  authorities  against  him.  Brought  to  trial, 
and  pronounced  guilty  of  treasonable  practices 
against  his  sovereign,  he  was  condemned  to  expiate, 
by  a  long  imprisonment  within  the  walls  of  the 
fortress  of  the  Belvedere,  the  triumph  of  the  brief 
term  of  power  and  popularity  he  had  enjoyed. 
With  the  day  that  witnessed  his  arrest,  the  revolu 
tion  of  which  he  had  been  the  chief  animating  spirit, 
may  be  said  to  have  terminated ;  for,  notwithstand 
ing  the  Leghornese  contested  with  arms  the  entrance 
into  their  town  of  the  Austrian  troops  whom  Leo 
pold  had  called  to  his  side,  the  conduct  of  Leghorn 
in  this  particular  was  not  imitated  by  any  other 
large  city  of  Tuscany;  though  many  towns,  both 
small  and  large,  were  well  known  to  look  with  dis 
favor  on  the  Grand  Duke's  recall.  In  truth,  the 


THE   LATE    REVOLUTION.  333 

restoration  of  Leopold  to  his  throne,  seems  to  have 
been  brought  about,  not  by  a  love  of  the  Govern 
ment  that  had  been  overthrown,  but  by  a  hatred  of 
that  anarchy  which  had  resulted  from  democratic 
rule.  In  the  minds  of  the  respectable  classes  of  the 
land,  of  all  those  who  were  interested  in  the  security 
of  life  and  property,  the  government  of  the  Grand 
Duke  was  viewed  simply  as  preferable  to  the  govern 
ment  of  the  mob.  Of  the  two  kinds  of  despotism, 
the  former  seemed  the  best — the  least  of  two  evils, 
between  which  there  appeared  to  many  no  alterna 
tive  but  to  choose. 

Though  the  authority  of  the  Grand  Duke  was 
nominally  established  in  Florence  on  the  12th  of 
April,  the  day  after  the  expulsion  of  the  Leghornese, 
Leopold  did  not  return  to  his  capital  until  the  28th 
of  July,  when  not  only  Florence,  but  every  town  in 
Tuscany,  had  its  good  behavior  fully  secured  by  the 
presence  of  Austrian  troops.  Throwing  himself  thus 
avowedly  on  a  German  army  for  support,  and  de 
claring  thus  openly  how  little  dependence  he  placed 
in  the  affection  and  loyalty  of  the  people  over  whom 
he  ruled — augmenting  taxation,  too,  in  various  ways, 
to  defray  the  cost  of  supporting  that  large  band  of 
foreign  soldiers,  on  whose  aid  he  leaned — it  cannot 
be  a  matter  of  surprise  that  the  reactionary  feeling 
in  his  favor,  w^hich  gave  him  back  his  throne,  has 
died  out  utterly,  and  that  whatever  feelings  may 
now  be  found  operating  in  favor  of  the  maintenance 


334  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

of  his  rule,  affection  is  not  one.  Even  to  the  stran 
ger,  this  is  evident,  who  happens  to  be  present  on 
some  public  occasion,  when  the  Grand  Duke  is 
brought  into  immediate  contact  with  the  inhabitants 
of  Florence.  Amidst  the  crowd  that  lines  the  streets 
on  St.  John's  Day,  to  witness  the  grand  parade  of 
Grand  Ducal  and  aristocratic  equipages,  the  few 
hats  uplifted,  as  the  sovereign  passes,  serve  but  to 
make  more  marked,  more  striking,  the  absence 
amongst  the  general  mass  of  any  kind  of  courteous 
salutations. 

To  the  thought  of  the  future  of  Italy,  who  does 
not  turn  with  interest  ? — who  would  not  proffer  their 
best  wishes  for  the  prosperity  of  a  country  the 
parent  land  of  European  law,  art,  literature  and  civ 
ilization  ?  In  the  progress  which  the  world  is  making 
at  this  present  day,  Italy,  so  blessed  by  Providence, 
so  bounteously  endowed  by  nature  with  everything 
that  can  minister  to  a  nation's  riches  and  prosperity 
— a  country  that  shone  out  so  brightly  during  the 
prevailing  darkness  of  the  middle  ages — Italy,  surely, 
is  not  destined  to  lag  behind  in  the  rearward  ranks 
of  onward  marching  nations.  Throughout  the  whole 
Peninsula,  there  are  many  signs  that  the  existing 
state  of  affairs  will  not  be  of  long  continuance  :  and 
the  termination  cannot  come  too  soon  of  a  state  of 
things  which  blights  both  heart  and  mind,  which 
blasts  all  intellectual  growth,  fosters  idleness  and 
self-indulgence,  and  is  fatal  alike  to  private  and 


THE    LATE   REVOLUTION.  335 

public  virtue.  Brought  up  in  a  state  of  intellectual 
slavery,  as  Italians  were,  unused  to  liberty  of  thought 
and  speech,  unhabituated  to  the  exercise  of  self- 
government — no  wonder  it  was  they  abused  those 
privileges  when,  a  few  years  ago,  they  wrested  them 
from  their  rulers.  Remembering  the  source  from 
which  the  errors  of  the  revolutionary  period  flowed, 
they  should  be  treated  leniently,  as  the  errors  of 
children,  who,  from  being  perpetually  guarded, 
checked  at  every  step,  hedged  in  by  restrictions, 
suddenly,  at  one  bound,  find  themselves  emancipat 
ed  from  control.  Though  individuals  will  some 
times,  from  the  strong  bent  of  nature,  rise  superior 
to  the  power  of  circumstances,  yet  as  a  general  rule, 
it  may  be  said,  national  institutions  form  the  national 
character. 

It  was  of  Italy  Napoleon  declared :  "  Out  of 
eighteen  millions  of  people,  I  have,  with  difficulty, 
found  two  men."  As  it  was  half  a  century  ago, 
when  these  words  were  spoken,  so  it  is  now :  the 
same  influences  are  at  work  to  make  men  rare  in 
Italy — men  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word — reasoning, 
reflective,  intelligent,  strong-willed,  high-principled, 
active,  energetic  human  beings — capable  of  taking 
fortune  at  its  tide,  of  bending  circumstances  to  their 
will,  and  of  pursuing,  in  the  face  of  opposing  ob 
stacles,  a  fixed  aim  and  a  definite  course  of  action. 
But  natures  such  as  these,  fitted  to  guide  and  gov 
ern,  to  reassure  the  timid,  to  overawe  the  turbulent, 


336  LIFE  IN   TUSCANY. 

in  times  of  popular  commotion  —  such  natures  are 
not  the  products  of  a  country  where  thought  is 
shackled,  speech  is  gagged,  and  every  path  is  closed 
to  honorable  ambition.  Evils  act  and  react  upon 
one  another:  an  unworthy  government  makes  an 
unworthy  people,  and  an  unworthy  people  perpetu 
ates  an  unworthy  government.  But  Italians,  long 
as  they  have  been  trodden  down,  and  heavy  as  is 
the  yoke  fixed  upon  their  necks,  have  now  awaken 
ed  fully  to  a  sense  of  their  abased  condition ;  and 
with  that  consciousness  will  come  regenerating  influ 
ences  :  a  patriotism  which,  purified  from  selfish  aims, 
will  make  politics  something  else  than  a  trade,  or  a 
market  of  competing  venalities. 

Italy,  now  more  than  twenty-five  millions  strong, 
has  but  to  will  to  be  free — to  will  unanimously,  de 
terminedly,  self-sacrificingly,  to  be  free — to  become 
so  speedily.  Relying  now  too  much  on  foreign  aid 
and  foreign  intervention  for  an  amelioration  of  their 
condition,  the  people  as  yet  do  not  fully  see  or  feel, 
that  freedom,  to  be  lasting,  must  be  attained  by 
their  own  efforts ;  and  that  the  wail  of  inability  on 
their  part  to  win  liberty  for  themselves,  involves  a 
confession  of  their  incompetency  to  maintain  itx  if 
gained  by  them  through  the  means  of  foreign  suc 
cor.  "  Aide-toi  et  le  ciel  t'aidera,"  is  a  proverb  em 
bodying  sterling  truth  and  sage  counsel.  For  Italy 
to  take  her  place  amongst  the  foremost  nations  of 
the  world — to  cover  the  seas  with  her  merchant 


THE   LATE  REVOLUTION.  337 

ships,  to  rear  emporiums  for  human  industry,  and 
to  produce  such  minds  as  will  extend  the  landmarks 
of  human  knowledge  —  minds  which,  penetrating 
into  Nature's  secrets,  will  turn  its  mysteries  to  man's 
profit — minds  exerting  by  wisdom,  learning,  fancy, 
pathos,  eloquence,  wit,  an  enduring  dominion  over 
the  intellect  of  succeeding  generations;  to  do  all 
this — an  ambition  to  which  she  may  well  aspire — 
Italy  must  not  receive  her  freedom  as  a  gift,  but 
must  work  it  out  by  her  own  energies,  through  the 
purifying  agencies  of  suffering,  sacrifice,  devotion 
and  perseverance. 

In  the  present  juncture  of  affairs,  when  a  collision 
between  France  and  Austria  seems  imminent,  it  be 
hooves  Italians  to  act  with  caution ;  for  the  expul 
sion  of  the  Austrian  from  their  land,  if  accomplished 
by  foreign  aid,  would  be  an  act  from  which  they 
could  not  reason  ably  hope  to  derive  the  least  advan 
tage.  The  freedom  of  a  nation  has  never  yet  been 
achieved,  nor  ever  will  be  obtained,  through  the 
assistance  of  a  despot.  Philanthropy  abides  not 
with  the  wearer  of  an  imperial  crown,  nor  hatred  of 
oppression  with  the  master  of  the  lives  and  fortunes 
of  millions.  To  uproot  one  tyranny  merely  to  have 
another  planted  in  its  stead,  would  be  no  gain  to 
Italy.  On  the  contrary,  the  yoke  last  imposed  would 
prove,  in  all  probability,  more  grievous  than  the  one 
that  it  succeeded.  The  fable  of  the  horse  which 
asked  the  man  to  mount  him,  to  avenge  him  on  his 

99 


338  LIFE   IN   TUSCANY. 

enemy,  affords  a  salutary  warning,  in  reference  to 
the  course  which  would  inevitably  be  pursued  by 
France  in  the  character  of  avenger  of  Italian  griev 
ances;  for  the  service  done,  the  position  occupied 
by  its  doer  would  still  be  retained,  and  Italy,  curbed 
by  the  strong  hand  of  her  selected  champion,  would 
find,  ere  long,  that  there  could  exist  for  her  a  still 
greater  evil  than  the  rule  of  Austria.  To  invite 
assistance  is,  on  the  part  of  nations,  to  invite  oppres 
sion.  A  people  who  cannot  win  freedom  by  their 
own  exertions,  must  resign  themselves  to  a  state  of 
servitude  and  dependence;  for  the  well  known  "Rob 
Roy  good  old  rule,"  *  though  banned  and  scouted 
in  private  life,  is  the  doctrine  still  acted  on  by  kings 
and  nations ;  and  whilst  Might  makes  Right  in  their 
estimation,  weak  states  will  ever  fall  victims  to  the 
stronger.  In  this,  however,  as  well  as  in  other 
affairs  of  life,  we  may  in  general  trace  a  law  of  re 
tributive  justice;  for  in  a  nation  which  consists  of 
millions,  weakness  is  a  disgrace,  a  degradation. 

There  is  a  Nemesis  ever  attending  on  human  error, 
either  as  regards  states  or  individuals.  No  fault  or 
folly  can  be  committed  that  does  not  involve  some 
penalty,  and  Italy  is  now  not  one  nation  chiefly 
because  its  millions  have  no  unity  in  thought,  feel 
ing  and  aspiration ;  for  throughout  the  land,  miser 
able  petty  jealousies  divide  the  inhabitants,  not  only 

*  "  That  those  should  take  who  have  the  power, 
And  those  should  keep  who  can/' 


THE   LATE   REVOLUTION.  339 

of  states  but  of  cities,  from  each  other.  During  the 
late  revolution  in  Tuscany,  Leghorn,  with  a  view  of 
establishing  itself  as  an  independent  republic,  rose 
up  in  arms  against  Florence ;  and  Genoa,  enjoying 
a  large  measure  of  liberty  under  the  rule  of  the 
King  of  Sardinia,  is  ready  now  to  fight,  as  it  fought 
a  few  years  ago,  to  attain  a  distinct  national  exist 
ence.  Florence  is  jealous  of  the  pretensions  df 
Rome,  and  Naples  has  no  true  sympathy  with  either. 
"Whilst  such  a  state  of  things  continues,  the  dream, 
so  dear  to  the  Italian  patriot,  of  making  Italy  some 
thing  more  than  "a  geographical  expression,"  can 
certainly  not  be  realized.  "Without  unity  of  thought 
and  action,  resistance  is  hopeless ;  but,  with  commu 
nity  of  aim  and  purpose,  the  overthrow  of  foreign 
or  domestic  tyranny  would  be  unfailingly  and  speed 
ily  accomplished. 

In  the  next  attempt  which  Italians  make  to  ac 
quire  the  privileges  of  freemen,  let  them  avoid  those 
errors  which  blighted  the  fair  promise  that  charac 
terized  the  commencement  of  their  last  endeavor. 
The  wisdom  derived  from  suffering  and  experience 
should  now  be  theirs ;  and  if  they  profit  by  its  teach 
ings,  Italy  will  exhibit,  in  the  succeeding  century,  a 
picture  differing  widely  from  the  aspect  it  presents 
in  this,  of  a  people  burning  with  resentment  and 
hatred  towards  its  rulers,  and  rulers  regarding  with 
terror  and  distrust  the  millions  beneath  their  sway. 


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